


hold my hand, consign me not to darkness

by AureliaAstralis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avenger Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy is Thanos's daughter, F/M, Gen, Mostly Gen, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, artificial modifications, assassin!darcy, relationships pending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AureliaAstralis/pseuds/AureliaAstralis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one life, Darcy Lewis lived out her childhood, attended Culver University and applied for an internship that thrust her headfirst into the unknown world of superheroes and gods and monsters.</p><p>In another life, Darcy Lewis was taken from Earth and reshaped into Xania, daughter of Thanos, making her escape back to her home planet over a decade after her abduction. This time, the world of superheroes and gods and monsters <em><b>was</b></em> her world, and she attacked it like she always did: head first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There wasn’t much she remembered about her life before she was taken. She was born human, to a woman with soft skin, and a man with a deep laugh, and was loved unconditionally. She remembered glimpses of her old life: the warmth of an embrace; the scent of roses; wetness on her cheeks; a flash of light; her birth name. Nothing concrete enough to trigger a memory, but she held onto those moments all the same. Her few intact Terran memories involved screaming as her parents and her town were obliterated by an army of monsters, and waking up in agony, her body strapped down to a table. She remembered a gaunt, green-skinned, red-eyed creature leaning over her with a bloody scalpel, muttering to himself in a language she didn’t know, before she passed out from exhaustion and pain.

She woke up with bandages wound around eighty percent of her body, the green-skinned creature scuttling around her prone form. A month later, she was still barely able to move anything below her chin, but she was brought in front of Thanos anyways. He told her in no uncertain words that she was his to command as he saw fit, and that she was alive only by his mercy. Young and naive, she spat at his feet and said she wouldn’t serve the monster that killed her parents. 

It was the only time she spoke out against him. 

She became a tool he deployed across the galaxy to do his bidding, trained by two of the Titan’s ‘daughters,’ Gamora and Nebula. She liked Gamora; the assassin had honor and morals, and taught through patience and discipline. Nebula, on the other hand, terrified her. The insane bitch operated on the mentality of sink or swim, but to the utmost extremes. She couldn’t remember how many times Gamora had to bring her to Doctor Mandibus, the creep she had woken up to right after her abduction, to heal her wounds and fix the damaged cybernetics in her right arm and leg after each massive beat down at the hands of Nebula.

As Thanos liked to remind her, while she was remade to be better than the rest of her species, she was Terran in every aspect that counted — fragile, weak, mortal.

* * *

She may have been mortal, but she didn’t forget. She planned, and ran at the first real chance she got. 

It was an easy assignment, accompanying Nebula to Knowhere to investigate the rumor of an Infinity Gem surfacing in the galactic black market. The moment they entered the primary market area, she let herself gradually get pulled away by the bustling crowd, slipping into the masses before hijacking Nebula’s realm-jumping ship, Pyrite Amber, and setting course for Earth. 

She landed not-so-smoothly in an open field, with tall, golden stalks shivering in the wind. She couldn’t see anyone for miles around, but that meant nothing; it had been a long time since she had left Earth, and everyone she knew from before was dead. 

And so she waited. 

Merely a few hours later, a series of black transport vehicles with four wheels approached her, maneuvering to surround the ship. The doors on the odd-looking ships opened, and she sighed as she heard the familiar sound of offensive weaponry being prepped to fire. It was nice to know that there was at least one thing she was comfortable with, even if it was combat.

A slim, rather unassuming looking Terran stepped out from behind one of the vehicles, and something jolted inside her chest when her mind supplied the word for the odd-looking contraption on the human’s face.

“Glasses,” she said, and the human stopped, his brow wrinkling in confusion. 

“What?” 

“The shield you wear over your eyes,” she said, motioning to her own face. “Terrans call them glasses… if I remember correctly.”

“Sunglasses, actually,” he said slowly, “but yes.” 

She smiled. “My father wore glasses,” she said softly, then froze as the fuzzy image of a dark-haired human sprung to mind, wearing the same ‘glasses’ only with clear glass instead of black, framing laughing blue eyes. 

“My name is Agent Coulson, acting on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., also known as the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.” The man pulled off the sunglasses, squinting into her face shadowed by the ship. “May I ask that you state your name and business here on Earth?” 

She stepped forward into the light of the black vehicles, and around her she could hear sharp gasps and whispers. She saw the human’s eyes scan over her black combat suit, tracing over the knives sheathed at her calves and the staff in her hand, but they stopped at her face, widening until she could see the whites of his eyes. 

“I go by many names, Agent Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she said, the tattoos on her face and neck contorting with each word she spoke. “I am best known as Xania, but there was a time when I was once called Darcy Lewis… and I am here because I want to come  _home_.” 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two weeks since she had landed on Earth, two weeks since being locked up like an animal in a cage. 

Undoubtedly, the only two reasons they hadn’t killed her on the spot and experimented with her body was because one, being born human in the United States had given her some semblance of rights, and two, any attempts to kill her had failed miserably, no matter how subtle or obvious. 

There was the sound of a lock turning, and she looked up to see a tall, dark-skinned Terran who strode into her cell menacingly, his long dark coat fanning out behind him. 

“Here to try and kill me again, Terran?” she asked, amusement flickering in her expression when the male growled angrily. “Or is this another of your poor intimidation attempts?”

He glared, but didn’t respond to her goading, instead opening up the file in his hand and reading from it aloud.

“Darcy Penelope Lewis, self-proclaimed Xania,” he spoke, “Born in Modesto, California in 1989 to James Lewis and Katherine Murphy, presumed dead as a result of a supposed mutant attack in 1995. Reappeared twelve years later in rural Indiana, piloting an extraterrestrial transport vehicle and possessing an artificial nervous system optimized in the forms of weaponized limbs. Subject has shown signs of high agility and strength, training in close combat and long range assault, knowledge of advanced technology and weaponry, as well as above average intelligence for an extraterrestrial life-form.” 

He snapped the file shut, tossing it on the metal table in front of her and sitting in the chair across from her with little grace. He pinned her with a glare. “Did I miss anything?” 

“Nothing quite too important,” she said calmly. “Though the gas you administered to me via the ventilation ducts was particularly creative, I have to admit. It is similar to the atmospheric composition of the planet Ngord, but I have built up an immunity to it, I’m afraid.” 

The male looked like he wanted to rip her throat out with his teeth. “That was a combination of sarin, cyanogen chloride, and phosgene gas. No human can build up an immunity to that combination without dying first!” 

“I am no longer just another human, Terran,” she said simply. “No normal human can survive in the outer galaxy, except perhaps on Xandar.”

She leaned forward. “You are interested in the information I possess, and what I can offer you, no?” He had an admittedly impressive control over his facial expression, but she smiled a shark’s grin when his exposed eye twitched. “Your predecessors were woefully transparent in their questioning, especially when they could not learn how the technological systems on the ship worked.” 

“Are you trying to bargain with me?” 

“I’m offering you a deal,” she said smoothly, sitting back in her chair. “All technology in that ship is keyed to both my unique genetic code and the artificially implanted cybernetics in my nervous systems.”

“What’s stopping us from the more forceful alternative?” he said smartly, and her good humor fled. 

“You’re welcome to try and take my body by force, Terran, but not before you trigger the self-destruct function both in my body and my ship.” 

"A time bomb on the verge of explosion," he snorted. "You program that yourself, genius?" 

"The one who abducted me from this planet is the once responsible for that little gift, as well as all the other genetic modifications I possess, Terran." She bared her teeth at him in a semblance of a smile, shutting him up quick. "Only the distance of numerous galaxies between him and I prevent him from punishing me for my disobedience."

He was silent, studying her with one dark eye. “What is it that you want from Earth, that you waited until now to come back?” 

“Before my departure, I was given no real opportunity to leave.” She would not unleash Thanos’s wrath upon Terra by speaking his name, nor those of her sisters — if he had confirmation of her whereabouts, Terra would’ve been little more than stardust in the cosmic universe. “I was a space mercenary for hire, and until recently did not possess the means in which to fund an inter-realm expedition to this galaxy.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “That ship of yours is loaded up with enough weapons systems to wipe out one of our major cities,” he said impatiently. “How are we to know your plans weren’t of a destructive nature?” 

She smiled blandly. “If I wanted to wipe out your entire race, Terran, I would not have let your Agent Coulson find me, let alone capture me.”

He frowned at that reminder, his demeanor reminding her very much of Nebula — overly proud and willing to sacrifice for what they believed worth of their support. It made her sigh, knowing now that the space pirate would now kill her on sight if they ever met again. 

"Do we have a deal…" She held a hand out, sentence trailing off suggestively. 

"Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.," he filled in, and stared at her hand like a live grenade before grabbing it in a tight hold. "But let me make something perfectly clear, Lewis, or Xania, or whatever you go by — you screw us over, and I will find a way to make sure you not only die, but suffer until you go insane." 

"Fair enough." She grinned. "And please, Director Fury, call me Darcy. I look forward to working with you." 


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy realized quickly that there were three types of people within S.H.I.E.L.D.

An overwhelming majority of the people she had met through the organization were inherently distrustful of anything different, of anything they didn’t understand — they were the ones that ogled her like  _praazyat_  selling their bodies in the streets of Knowhere, the ones that stared at her in the halls of the Triskelion, the ones that whispered as she trained in the gym. They were everywhere, littering the compound like a pack of  _leifgyr_ , mindless little creatures that followed the herd rather than forging individual paths. 

The second type included people who, while less hostile, were equally irritating, perhaps more so. Mostly made up of ‘scientists,’ as Terrans called them, they asked incessant questions in pursuit of understanding her body’s artificial transformation, a tenacity Darcy could admire under normal circumstances. She had answered their queries with good humor at first, but the questions had quickly progressed into intrusive requests for blood tests, tissue samples, and experiments with Terran poisons both organic and artificial. With these people, she learned quickly to avoid the laboratories and common areas they tended to gather in — they reminded Darcy much too closely of Doctor Mandibus, cooing over her broken body each time he put her back together. 

The few remaining fit into the last category. Scattered across various positions throughout the organization, Darcy was nonetheless pleased to find that above all things, these people were the ones that were honorable. Apart from Coulson and Fury, there were only three others she could place into this category: an amicable yet capable agent-in-training called Sharon Carter; Fury’s associate Maria Hill, who through a cool demeanor regarded Darcy with respect; and under Coulson’s direct command, a male Terran by the name of Clint Barton, whom she enjoyed conversing with on multiple occasions. He was always happy to spar with her in the gym, conceding defeat in their brawls with good humor and goading others who dared to challenge her with creative taunts. 

She quickly gained recognition on par with two other female combatants: one, named the Calvary, was no longer in active service, but she had yet to meet the other, Black Widow. Clint kept saying Darcy would get along with her, that they were born from similar circumstances, but she was withholding judgement until they actually met in person — Widow was a continuously popular commodity, as Fury sent her off exclusively where he needed her.

Clint became her temporary partner, while Widow was running missions on her own. Darcy preferred it this way — in the few years since her crash landing to Earth, she had gone through partners like used knives, dulling them down until they were no longer useful and tossing them aside. Compassion, she believed, was not a weakness as Thanos had sought to instill into her, but she found that here, in an organization operating upon secrets and lies, strength and intellect were what forced respect from those who thought her inferior, not her so-called humanity. 

With Clint though, she grew close to him. Gamora was everything Darcy ever wanted in an elder sister, but Clint was, in many ways, the brother she had always wished for. He possessed a scathing wit and showed affection roughly, taking it upon himself to teach her everything she’d missed since her abduction from Earth. One particular invention, what Clint called an iPod, reminded her of a Ravager she met on Xandar a few years earlier, who had treasured a similar, though less sophisticated music device.

The little device became her constant companion, every spare moment used listening to a decade’s worth of music, audio books, podcasts, and radio broadcasts. Even in the cold, wet twilight of what Clint called New Mexico, she was content to take watch over the mysterious hammer that remained stuck in the craggy rock as she listened to the soothing sounds of a ballad, a smooth voice crooning into her ears through the background sound of pounding rain against the tin roof of the security trailer. 

“Who’re you listening to now?” She quirked her lips, glancing over her shoulder to see Clint lounging gracelessly over three stools, taking full advantage of the others’ coffee break. She pulled the headphones out of her ears, letting a tinny voice fill the space. 

“ _At Last_ ,” she said softly, the wind and thunder howling right outside. “It’s a beautiful song.”  

Clint snorted. “Not really the right weather for Etta James, Darce.” 

She laughed. “Nothing’s the right weather for you unless the sun is shining and the wind speed is zero, Clint.” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but his head snapped to the right, a hand instinctively going over his shoulder. Darcy was next to the window a moment later, her eyes scanning the darkness through the rain-streaked glass. 

“… is that…?” A short shadow sat maybe a hundred feet away, peering through some shrubbery at the temporary facility S.H.I.E.L.D. had set-up. “What’s Foster doing here?” 

“Coulson confiscated all her research a few days ago. Poor woman looked crazy enough to pull something stupid like this…” Clint grimaced, cracking his back as he fumbled for his radio. 

Movement on one of the screens caught her attention. “Clint —!” 

“Barton, Lewis, I have an intruder and I need eyes up high,” Coulson’s voice cut in sharply, crackling to life through the comm and startling both of us. “With a gun.”

“Looks like playtime’s over.” Clint grinned, a hand hovering over the long-range sniper rifle before he grabbed his bow and quiver, messily ruffling her hair in his mad dash out the door.

“Barton’s en route, sir, and the intruder is heading towards the 084,” Darcy relayed back, getting only mumbles and static. “I repeat, intruder’s target is the 084, I request orders.” 

“We’re might need you in here, Lewis; stand-by until further instructions.” She wrinkled her nose at the order, but Coulson had already moved on. “Barton, talk to me.”

“Stand-by,  _my ass_ ,” she muttered, grabbing head-comm and one of her electroshock plasma guns. 

“You want me to slow him down, sir?” she heard Clint ask through the comm-link. “Or are you sending in more guys for him to beat up?”

“I’ll let you know.” 

She paused on her way to the compound, making sure to first glare at Foster’s hiding place long enough for her to know she’d been found out. Tracking the shadows of the intruder’s bulky form, she followed the carnage to where the man was fighting one of the ground patrol soldiers, neatly jumping out of the way just as the pair came crashing through the white canvas. 

“You better call it, Coulson.” She looked up, squinting through the rain and spotting Clint hoisted up on some crane, arrow directed at the fighting pair. “ ‘Cause I’m starting to root for this guy.” 

“I’m engaging the target,” Darcy cut in, ignoring Coulson’s protests and stepping out into view just as the intruder knocked out the S.H.I.E.L.D. guard. Up close, he was quite handsome, but even in the shadowed lighting she saw his face drain of color when he met her eyes. 

She leveled her gun at him. “This is as far as you go.” 

“ _Xania_   _uphiminn veiðimaðargr_ ,” he breathed, skin pale, and while she didn’t recognize the language he spoke, Darcy stiffened at the long-unspoken name.

“You know who I am.” Something desperate clawed at her stomach, fear trickling down her spine as her mind flittered through numerous possibilities. “How do you…?”

“Last chance, sir.” Clint’s voice flittered in her ear, a warning in his voice

“Wait.” Darcy allowed herself to feel a sliver of amusement at Coulson’s tone — he was as curious as she was about this man. “I want to see this.”

She started in surprise as he bowed slightly, before standing tall. “I apologize for attacking your comrades,  _veiðimaðargr_ , but I only aim to retrieve what is rightfully mine.” 

“I’m afraid cannot let you do that.” His shoulders slumped. “Surrender now, and you may be treated with more leniency, Terran.”

Her words, apparently, had the opposite effect. Something settled in his face, determination filling his eyes, and he charged towards Darcy with a battle cry, arm rearing back for a punch. 

She pressed the trigger, the plasma net of electricity shooting out and catching him in the chest. She watched wtih detached curiosity as the rain seemed to amplify the effects of the charge, his body still shaking for a near minute after he passed out.

Coulson’s voice flared to life again. “Alright, show’s over. Ground units move in.”

"And the electro-space tech strikes again," she heard Clint huff good-naturedly.

Darcy watched with a frown as a group of four men came and dragged his unconscious form away. There was something off about… whatever he was. There was no way he could be mortal, with the fear in his face — she took great pains to ensure that her old reputation stayed in the outer galaxy, but if he knew of her from her time under Thanos… 

She breathed an uneasy sigh. She didn’t like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the tasing still happened! Darcy's taser is always such a defining component of her character in fan fiction stories that I wanted to pay tribute to her iconic moment of greatness in the first Thor movie.
> 
> We're getting to actual plot now, folks!


	4. Chapter 4

When he finally woke up, he struggled to break the shackles at his ankles and wrists, muscles bulging in his efforts. He froze when he saw her sitting across from him, his wide eyes tracing the gleaming threads of burnished silver running across the skin of her exposed face and neck down to her covered right arm. She had no doubt he knew what lay underneath black leather of her sleeves, an arm outfitted with plates of metal that fused into her skin just past her elbow.

"You know who I am," she said quietly.

"Aye," he replied, face open with confusion and distrust. "You are the reason I am bound with dwarf steel."

"Yes, but you are not Terran," she countered, and he frowned slightly. "A human mortal, I mean."

"Now, I’m just a man… but I was born of Asgard, the Realm Eternal." His face fell as he said this, but Darcy raised her eyebrows.

"What is an Aesir doing on Terra? I thought your kind abandoned this planet centuries ago."

"I was banished for my arrogance," he said lowly, full of shame. "The hammer is the only way—" He stopped mid-sentence in shock, as Darcy leapt from her chair and shattered the mirror behind her with a single punch.

"Show yourself,  _seydghir_ ,” she hissed, whipping back to glare around the room. A moment later, the Aesir looked towards the space at her side in surprise, and she flinched at the smooth, cool voice that spoke right beside her.

“Hello, brother.”

“Loki? What are you doing here?”

”I had to see you.” There was a shimmer of green, and a dark-haired male materialized at her side, not even flinching when she had a blade to his throat the moment he became tangible enough to sustain injury.

She looked up to one of the surveillance cameras. “Intruder —!”

"I’ve ensured that we aren’t interrupted,  _veiðimaðargr_ ; your…  _friends_  see merely what I want them to see,” Loki said in amusement, eyeing her answering snarl. 

Darcy gritted her teeth as he leisurely examined her face, following the silver ribbons in her cheeks across her jaw and down her neck. “So this is where the great Xania disappeared to,” he drawled. “Here I thought you were above playing with mortals.” She bristled when his eyes lingered at the edge of her suit, the tight fabric doing little to hide the swell of her breasts.

“Still your tongue and control your gaze,  _Liesmith_ , lest you’d like me to remove both features permanently.” His eyes flared, but she pushed the blade at his throat closer with a warning growl. “What business do you have with Terra?”

“You would do well to cease your threats upon a Prince of Asgard,” he chided, looking down at the utilitarian knife at his throat with distaste. “I am here only to speak with my brother.” 

"Your brother…" Her head snapped back to the blonde, who was looking at Loki with restrained hope. "… you are  _Prince_   _Thor_?!” 

"Prior to my exile, yes," he rumbled. "Loki, you’ve come to bring me back, yes? Surely Father has seen that my punishment is sufficient!"

Loki’s face fell. “Thor, something has happened…”

"What is it?" When Loki cast his eyes down, Thor frowned and demanded, "Tell me! Is it Jotunheim? I can explain to Father —"

"Father is dead." Under the fluorescent lights, Thor’s face was frozen pale, stunned.

Darcy inhaled sharply. ”The All-father… surely not —?”  

"Your banishment, the threat of a new war…" Loki bowed his head. "It was too much to bear." 

"My banishment…? No,  _no_ …” Thor’s head hung limply, eyes unseeing as they stared at the floor, and Darcy didn’t protest as Loki pushed her knife away and drew close to Thor, kneeling in front of him. 

"You mustn’t blame yourself, Thor," Loki murmured, placing a hand on Thor’s shoulder in comfort. "I know that you loved him so. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen…"

Darcy stood to the side awkwardly, caught off guard and unsure. She had little interaction with the Aesir, save present company, but from what she had heard, the Allfather was a harsh and cold king, but also just and fair. She bowed her head in respect, but Loki’s next words made alarms go off in her head. 

"The burden of the throne has fallen to me now, brother." 

Thor looked up, his face streaked with tears. “I can come home, then?”

Loki stood, and the sympathy written all over his face putting Darcy at ill-ease. Thor barely noticed, too wrapped up in grief. “The truce with Jotunheim is conditional upon your exile.”

"But… this challenge," Thor said weakly, gesturing to the cell around them. "Surely Father would’ve brought me back, after proving my worth here? I was so close, brother!"

"The All-father did not design this to test you, Lord Thor," Darcy cut in, both Aesir looking towards her as if they’d forgotten she was there. "I can attest to that." The blonde god looked so lost that Darcy couldn’t help but pity him.

"Test or no test, you wouldn’t have been able to lift the hammer." Loki continued, sighing heavily. "When Father stripped you of your powers, he ensured that only he could bestow Mjolnir to you once more. Perhaps he did place it here, for you to find, but with his death…" 

"… I will remain mortal," Thor said hollowly. "But Idunn’s apples, couldn’t we find a way to—"

"Mother has forbidden your return." Darcy frowned, catching a flash of  triumph in Loki’s eyes as he watched Thor’s expression crumple, shoulders slumping. "This is goodbye, brother… I’m so sorry." 

"No, I’m sorry… Loki, thank you for coming here." 

"Nothing could’ve stopped me." The dark-haired Aesir turned to Darcy, who eyed him with suspicion and distaste, and he smiled charmingly. "It is always a surprise to see you again,  _elksa_ , but perhaps I will have more reasons to visit Midgard in the future.”

"Don’t trouble yourself," she scowled, stiffening when the cell door hissed open.

"Always a pleasure, Xania," he chuckled, his form fading. "Farewell, brother _.”_

"Good-bye," Thor whispered, unaware as Coulson strode into the cell.

"Good-bye?" Coulson asked in amusement, turning to look at what Thor was staring at, but Loki was already gone. "We’re just getting started." 

"Would you like me to stay, sir?" Darcy prayed that he’d say yes, but Coulson shook his head. 

"Go help Barton finish scouting the perimeter. He said you guys saw Doctor Foster hanging around earlier." Thor looked at her in surprise, before pinning her with imploring stare. 

She ignored Coulson’s curious expression, exiting the room, but as the cell was closing she turned back, meeting Thor’s gaze with a nod just before the door slid shut.

Biting her lip, she headed outside, her mind churning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter this time! I think this is going to be more of a one scene a day sort of thing -- I'm trying to get into the habit of writing something daily, so there won't be as much length to these things unless I go off on a writing frenzy.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy watched mutedly as Thor and a older man she recognized as Erik Selvig ordered another round of drinks boisterously, Thor’s booming laughter drowning out Selvig’s increasingly drunken banter. She had slipped in a little while ago, just in time to see _Selvig_  of all people head-butt one of the less-intelligent looking mortals in the establishment, Thor looking on with impressed pride. 

Nearly seven drinks later, the ground around them was littered with alcohol and broken glass, results of some bizarre Asgardian drinking ritual that involved smashing empty drink vessels. 

She shook her head. She had never understood how a race so advanced in technology was still so entrenched in a society based upon a long dead archaic Terran culture. 

She snorted, watching Selvig fling a meagre-looking wad of Terran monetary units to the unamused bartender before stumbling dazedly towards the door, all the while shouting some horrid-sounding melody at the top of his lungs. Thor, finishing off his drink and smashing the glass for good measure, roared in approval, following Selvig out the door. 

She sighed as she headed over to the leftover mess, ignoring the crunching of glass under her boots. She pulled out the S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued credit card Coulson had given to her earlier, holding it out to the grumbling bartender. “I’ll pay for the damages.”

He eyed the card, glancing up at her impassive expression and took the card with a shrug, ringing up the charges quickly. She was out the door in less than a minute, following the sound of drunken laughter.

_“The mood is good, our hearts are full, there’s magic in the air! It’s all because we’re here tonight, and haven’t got a care!”_

Spying the pair sauntering across the street, arms wrapped around each other, she chuckled as they both burst into a sloppy dance, stepping and slapping in time to the little tune. 

_“So raise a glass and toast to life, wherever it may lead! Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, a friend is fine indeed… Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, a friend is fine indeed!”_  The pair did a final little jig, Selvig howling out the last line with enthusiasm as Thor laughed in approval, slapping the older man’s back warmly. 

Darcy winced as Selvig keeled over like a log, passing out against the ground with a dull thunk. She stepped out of the shadows, Thor’s only reaction an acknowledging glance as he hauled Erik up from the ground and over his shoulder. 

“Lady Xania,” he said, turning to her with a respectful nod. “The Son of Coul sent you after us, then.” 

She smiled tightly, “I go by Darcy Lewis here on Terra, but yes.” She raised an eyebrow at Selvig, who was drooling down the back of Thor’s shirt. “You made quite the scene in that bar back there.” 

Thor looked sheepish. “I was told that the customs for celebration are different here on Midgard, but friend Erik here was enthusiastic to adopt our Asgardian drinking rituals for the night.” 

“I can see that,” she said dryly, the smile curling on her lips. “May I accompany you back to Doctor Foster’s lodgings?”

“Of course.” He gestured for her to lead the way, their footsteps soft against the pavement.

“Lord Thor…” He turned to regard her with an inquisitive expression. “I am sorry. About the All-Father… I have heard that he was a just king.” 

“Aye, he was.” Thor smiled sadly. “And though he may not have been the most kind, he was a good father to Loki and I as well. He deserves his rest.” 

“You hide your sorrows behind a facade of strength, Lord Thor.” She stopped walking, forcing him to turn back to her when he notices, his expression schooled into a carefully cultivated mask of calm. “Do not blame yourself for your father’s death, lest you risk living a life wasted by guilt and grief.” 

“This, coming from one known as the  _Executioner_ , an assassin second only to the _Soul-Reaper_  and the  _Butcher_?” he asked shrewdly, and Darcy’s eyes narrowed.

"You have no room to speak,  _Slaughterer_ ,” she hissed in warning, and he looked down in shame. She had always hated the title Thanos had bestowed upon her, as had Gamora, but Nebula  _loved_  hers — Darcy always felt nauseous when she thought of the way Nebula had butchered her victims like animals. “I left that life behind by my own will; do  _not_  throw it back in my face.”

He nodded, chastised, but a moment later met her gaze once more, less callously this time. “Asgard may be separate from the outer galaxies, but we hear rumors time and again… your tale is one we know especially well — they call you  _Star-Hunter_ ,  _Silverskin_ ,  _Half-Lived_ ,  _the_   _Wrath of the Titan_ …” 

“And do those stories tell you about the little Terran, taken and tortured by a monster until she was remade that way?” She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly to push back the nightmares that lingered in her consciousness, the metal fingers of her arm grinding into a fist. “I am… I  _was_  those things and more, Lord Thor, but I am still the terrified little girl who lived when everyone else she loved was dead, all because a monster wanted a new pet to break.”

Darcy didn’t look at Thor as she moved past him, hearing his footsteps follow her after a moment of hesitation. “I spent years blaming myself before someone made me see things differently,” she said softly. “You can harbor the guilt and grief and regret, use it to drive you forward and motivate your choices, but if you cannot move past it, whether you show it to the world or hide it behind a mask, it will overwhelm you.” 

A hand landed on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and she turned to see Thor looking at her with understanding, no trace of pity to be found in his eyes. “I grieve for your heartache, Lady Darcy, and I thank you for your wise words,” he said gently, with such compassion that she wanted to embrace him, “but where you were but a child, I am centuries old, a warrior grown, and yet still too foolish and arrogant to see past my prejudices. Exile is not punishment enough for the pain I have caused to Asgard’s people, let alone my own mother.”

“She is your mother,” Darcy said simply. “From what I know of Queen Frigga, she will be the first to forgive.” 

Thor shook his head, his pace slowing as they rounded the corner of a building and Foster’s trailer came into sight. “You know what Loki said — she forbids my return. I am only fortunate enough to have a brother that cares for me so.” 

She frowned, thinking back to the dark-haired god. “I have had the… privilege of encountering Loki during some of my previous travels,” she said slowly, and she put a hand on his arm, the gesture making him stop in surprise. “I do not say this lightly, Lord Thor, but I would be wary of the news your brother has told you. I have been fooled by his false words before, and I cannot help but feel that he has lied to you in some form tonight as well.” 

“I thank you for your concern, Lady Darcy, but I know my brother — he has no reason to lie to me. Not about Father.” 

She wasn’t convinced, but the look of utter trust on Thor’s face made her bite her tongue. “You do know him better than I.” 

“Loki may love mischief and chaos, but he is above all things good,” he said fondly, smiling wistfully. “I would trust him with my life.” 

He laid a hand over hers, squeezing it gently before bringing it up to his face and pressing his lips to the back of her hand. “Thank you for your kind words, Lady Darcy. It is good to know there is one here on Midgard at least familiar with my… unique circumstances.” 

“Indeed.” He let her hand go, as Selvig moaned faintly from over his shoulder. She glanced up at the building they stood beside, Thor following her gaze up. Darcy said quietly, “There are two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents up on that roof tasked with monitoring Doctor Foster’s research area and instructed to report everything said or done in the doctor’s compound. I know they have orders to maintain distance, but I trust you will be sufficient protection for your lady and her companions if the need arises.” 

In the streetlight, she watched as Thor’s face flushed, looking towards the open trailer window. She could see the woman, scribbling away at a little table, while a skinny boy scrambled around the little space collecting papers and books to add to the growing pile next to Foster’s hunched form.  

“She is not my lady,” he protested weakly, but she chuckled at the expression he wore as he gazed at the Terran woman. 

“Of course.” She pulled a card out of her pocket, handing it to Thor. “In the case that you ever need to contact me, give it to one of your companions to use. They will know how to reach me.” 

“Is this some sort of Midgardian teleportation device? It seems incredibly fragile…” Thor squinted down at the business card in the dim light, and this time Darcy laughed, the sound echoing faintly down the empty street.

“No, but your friends will know what it is.” Selvig groaned again, louder this time, and she gave the Aesir-turned-mortal a final smile. “Farewell, Lord Thor, and good luck.”

“And to you as well, Lady Darcy.” She waited across the street, watching as Thor knocked on the trailer door, Foster ushering him inside while worrying over Selvig. When the door swung shut behind them, she turned and slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters before the Thor saga is over. Action will be coming soon! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Peace lasted until the next morning.

Darcy pulled off her headphones as Coulson rushed past her, exchanging curious glances with Clint.

“What the hell was that?” Coulson barked, a technician in the security room balking under his sharp tone. A night of full surveillance on Foster’s trailer revealed nothing but Thor and Jane talking next to the campfire, then falling asleep together on the rooftop of the abandoned mechanic shop. It didn’t help that upon her return to base, Darcy had been purposefully vague and useless under Coulson’s questioning, setting the precedent to his mounting frustrations. 

“I don’t know, sir. We got massive energy readings out of nowhere, then they just disappeared.” He pulled some information up on the screen, the data showing readings that hit the top of the charts, then a set of GPS coordinates that were quickly plotted on a map. “Fifteen miles due northwest.” 

“Let’s go take a look.” Coulson headed towards the SUVs parked outside. Darcy spared a glance at the enlarged map, immediately noting the proximity to the little town she’d visited last night, and something in her stomach sunk in worry.

“Coulson!” She ran after him, catching up just as he reached the line of vehicles. “Whatever came from that storm… be cautious, and be wary. It is not of this galaxy, nor anything I’ve seen before.” Technically, it was true; she’d never seen an active Asgardian transport site before, but she knew Coulson would catch her careful wording. Part of her hoped that he would press her for more information, but something else hoped he wouldn’t, heeding her words for now so she could explain herself later. 

In the years since meeting the man, she’d realized that the Terran possessed an intuition that surpassed any other sentient being she’d encountered in all her travels across different galaxies, worlds, realms and planets. He studied her carefully blank expression, reading the worry that lay simmering beneath, and nodded shortly. 

“Meet up with Cale and Garrett in town, then give Doctor Foster and her friends a heads up. Keep your comm-link on; we don’t know if whatever came through that thing headed to town or ended up lingering around the site,” he said after a beat, and she nodded. As she turned away, he called after her, “And Lewis? I’m pulling rank after this — you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

She gave him a tight smile. “Later, Coulson. I promise.” 

She hurried back into the base, sidling up to Clint. “Keep an eye out on the base? I’m heading out.”

"Sure," he said absentmindedly, eyes focused on the compact bow in his hands, and she rolled her eyes, snatching up her iPod and heading to her bunk, mentally going over the inventory of weapons she’d brought with her. Within five minutes she was peeling out of the base’s gated entry, speeding across open desert in the direction of town. 

It took much too long to get to Puente Antiguo for her tastes, even with the speed at which Darcy was driving. By the time she pulled into the nearest available parking space, the SUV’s tires were nearly worn out from the rugged terrain. 

Not even bothering to hide her face, she felt the stares from the town residents as she ran past, her long hair whipping behind her as the metallic threads in her skin glimmered in the sunlight. 

“Surveillance team, report,” she called through the comm-link, frowning when she heard no reply. “Agents Cale and Garrett, do you copy?” Nothing.

Biting her lip, she headed towards the Foster’s lab-slash-mechanic shop, easily shimmying up a telephone pole and leaping onto the rooftop across the street. Two unconscious forms lay face-down at the edge of the building, on the side facing away from Foster’s lab oddly enough, and she knelt down to roll both men onto their backs. 

It was instinct that warned her first, then the quickly growing shadow. She dodged the punch by a hair’s breadth, feeing the heat of her attacker’s body radiating through levels of leather and metal armor, and grabbed the limb with the intention of throwing him or her over the roof. To her surprise, she managed only to pull the attacker towards her, panicking when thick, strong arms began to close around her. 

She let her legs buckle beneath her, and took the chance to catch her attacker’s legs, using her far stronger metal arm to grab an ankle and yank backwards,  _hard_. 

There was a hard thump and a litany of curses, the speaker undoubtedly male. Scrambling to her feet to put some distance between the man and herself, she realized with dismay that he was more than twice her size, a single one of the man’s hands large enough to easily wrap around her throat. His clothing was odd, medieval-looking but of high quality, the metal armor polished and the leather well-cared for, with the oddest facial hair she’d seen on Terra so far — a deep red, but grown out long and wavy to lay on his breastplate like a dinner napkin.

Looking up to meet his gaze, she had a bad feeling when she saw the widened eyes, the gaping mouth, and muscles rapidly tensing under his clothing. “Y-you…” He drew his sword quickly, falling into a defensive stance that belied his status as a warrior, and she quickly backpedaled.

She held up her hands in a placating, non-threatening gesture. “I mean you no harm, Terran, lest you prove a threat to my person.” She backed up a few steps for good measure, but the man’s grip on his sword did not lessen. “I have only come to check upon my comrades, whom I found unconscious upon my arrival.” 

His eyes looked back to the unconscious men, and then snapped back to her, eyes narrowed. “The notorious  _Silverskin_ , consorting with spies? Undoubtedly under malicious intentions,” he said with anger. “I will not allow you to endanger those placed under Asgard’s protection —”

“Asgard? Then  _you_  were what came through the storm.” Never let it be said that Darcy was anything less than observant. “You must come seeking Lord Thor, I presume?”

“You have seen him?” the warrior said hopefully, before distrust clouded his features. “What have you —?” 

“He is a friend, Aesir,” she interrupted, “And he is safe. He has found honorable companions.” She nodded towards Foster’s set-up, watching warily as the Aesir inched towards the roof edge to peer at the abandoned car shop. When his face brightened, she let out a sigh, relaxing.

"You speak the truth,  _Silverskin_ ,” he said, studying her in surprise, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Indeed," she replied drily. "Now may I suggest we agree to be more or less friendly, and go down to greet Thor together? I need to get those two somewhere with no more Asgardian surprises." She eyed Cale and Garrett with poorly hidden disapproval.

"Erm…" Somehow, even towering over her by a good foot and being twice her width, the man managed to look sheepish.

She didn’t even bother trying to hide the way she rubbed her temples. “There are more of you, aren’t there.”

He grinned, turning towards the town’s main street and whistling sharply. Waving down at someone, he backed away from the roof edge, stepping aside neatly just as three figures leapt up into the roof.

"Volstagg!" One of the males grinned, flicking his blonde hair across his forehead. "We thought you’d gone off and raided another storage house!"

Her would-be attacker laughed. “And here I’d thought you’d be charming some pretty Midgardian maiden, Fandral!” Volstagg clapped him on the shoulder, causing the voluminous fabric of the blonde’s cape to catch the New Mexico desert wind like a sail and tangle in the Aesir’s own ankles. He yelped as he was dragged down, and Darcy chortled.

Three heads zeroed in on her, and she actually groaned when the lone woman of the group snarled at her menacingly as her expression twisted into recognition, the other two catching a mere glimpse of her face before tensing. 

"Wait!" Volstagg hastily stepped between them. "My friends! Please, lay down your weapons; there is no enemy here—"

"Do you  _realize_  who that is, Volstagg?” the woman hissed. “The  _Half-Lived_ —”

"As I explained to your friend there before," Darcy interjected, not balking as she was pinned with four Aesir gazes, "I am familiar with Lord Thor, and consider him an ally. I mean you nor him any harm." She gestured again towards the lab. "Look for yourself." 

They did, each visibly brightening when they spotted Thor through the glass windows of the shop, and Darcy said, “So are we done here, or does anyone else want to try and kill me today?” She looked at their uneasy faces, but the three put their weapons down. “No? Great. Um, Volstagg, was it? Help a lady out?” 

"Ah, yes! Please convey my apologies to your comrades." She watched in muted awe as he lifted both Cale and Garrett, each in an arm, before leaping down to land soundly in the middle of the street as the earth around him rumbled. 

"He always does love making an entrance." She glanced at the blonde, who winked at her before making his own leap down, his other unnamed companions following. Both still eyed her with wariness and caution, and nobody could blame her for waiting until the crew of Aesir roared in greeting to Thor, just to be safe. 

She made her way down, nearing the congregation of Asgardians and Terrans just as Thor was making introductions. The woman, who was apparently called Lady Sif, nodded at her as she joined them, and she returned it with a smile.

"And we have the Lady  _Silverskin_  to thank for her assistance,” Fandral said cheerfully, sending a charming smile her way. 

"I’d prefer it if you refrained from using that name… much to literal for my tastes." She smiled in greeting towards the Terrans staring at her in silent shock, the difficult decision to look at her or at the Aesir plain on their faces. "I go by Agent Darcy Lewis here, operating under S.H.I.E.L.D.; a pleasure to finally meet you all." 

"You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?" The skinny, stick-like Terran boy looked like he was awestruck — he was called Ian Boothby if she remembered the dossiers correctly. “Were you the one who…?” 

"Indeed, friend Ian! The Lady Darcy is a fierce warrior, wielding lightning at her hands and steel in her body." All the Terrans looked confused at the wording, but she appreciated the compliment. Thor laid a hand on Volstagg’s shoulder, smiling warmly. "Oh, my friends, I’ve never been happier to see anyone."

"As you should be!" Darcy felt a little sorry for the way Foster sort of shrunk in on herself as Sif eyed the slight woman, raising a perfect eyebrow before grinning at Thor. "We are here to bring you home." 

"You know I cannot." Here, Thor cast a mournful look at Darcy, and she pursed her lips in sympathy. "Father… he is dead because of me. I must remain in exile, to atone for my mistakes." 

"Thor…" The four other Asgardians exchanged worried and confused glances, and Fandral continued hesitantly, "Your father still lives — he merely is in the Odinsleep, not dead." 

"It is cruel, even for you, Fandral, to jest about something like this." Thor looked upset, a deep frown marring his forehead. "Loki came to see me personally, to bring me the news —"

"Loki," Sif spat, "he is the one who refuses to end your banishment, despite his power as interim king!" 

"But my mother —" 

"The queen has not left your father’s bedside, Thor." Darcy nearly jumped at the deep voice. The final Asgardian, called Hogun, looked as grim as his name. "You recall that Laufey spoke of traitors in the House of Odin…" 

"No," Thor shook his head. "Loki would not… there must be some mistake…" 

"He was lying to you, Thor," Darcy said quietly. Thor looked at her in distress, clearly trying to process the way his world was once again flipped upside down, but the sound of a massive explosion drew everyone’s attention towards the window. 

In the distance, the flames of a deadly fire burned brightly, black smoke billowing viciously from the destruction. Sif and the Warriors Three paled, as did Darcy — that was the site of all the odd energy readings and the center point of all the cosmic storms S.H.I.E.L.D. had been sent to investigate.

Her stomach churned as she thought of Coulson and the teams that went out there to survey the site. 

"It is Loki," Hogun spoke again, staring at the fire with a strange intensity, but even Terrans saw it, gasping. A humanoid creature, its metal body shining in the sun, emerged from the wreckage, quickly making its way towards the town. 

Hogun’s voice was dark. “He has sent the Destroyer.” 


	7. Chapter 7

People were standing in the streets, staring at the towering, dark form approaching from the distance in shock. Backed by the flames of the explosion, it reminded Darcy of an unpleasant encounter with a couple of Zyuthans, similar in size and stature to the Destroyer, when she’d accidentally blown up their embassy in a rather poorly-devised escape attempt. At least this time, there was only one, but she may have been thinking too optimistically.

“You must leave this town now,” Thor said quickly, turning to Foster in worry. “Get yourself and your friends to safety.”

“What about you?” The woman glanced at the Destroyer, fear clearly painted on her delicate features.

“I must stay and fight.” Darcy exchanged uneasy glances with the other Asgardians, and Thor frowned at their unsure expressions. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Lord Thor.” Darcy didn’t want to be the one to kick him when he was already down, but it seemed prudent to point out the obvious. “You’re a mortal now — your chances of death are unfavorably high if you try to fight.” 

“I am still a warrior of Asgard, Mjolnir or not,” he said determinedly, “and I will fight by your side.” 

“ _Silverski_ — apologies, I mean, Lady Darcy is correct, Thor.” Volstagg tugged on his beard nervously. “You’ll get yourself killed!” 

“Or one of us, trying to protect you.” Fandral looked like he regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth, but Thor’s face fell as he considered the possibility. 

“The best thing you can do is get the mortals to safety and leave the battle to us.” Sif stepped forward, laying a consoling hand on his arm. “And the Lady Darcy will be a powerful ally to our side.” 

Darcy nodded when he looked towards her. “I will do everything in my power to help defeat the Destroyer.”

“… You’re right.” Thor looked pained, but tried to put a smile on his face. “You have my full confidence, my friends, Lady Darcy.” He turned to Foster, Selvig, and the boy. “Help me clear the streets — I’ll let none of these people die this day.” 

It took little time to evacuate everyone, many not questioning the oddly-dressed but dangerous-looking Asgardians barging through the town. Darcy herself took the opportunity to load the still-unconscious Cale and Garrett into the back of a car, extracting a promise from the harrowed-looking driver to bring them to a hospital, before joining in. 

She found herself next to Selvig, who was trying his best to not stare at her, but each time she looked at him he quickly turned away. 

“I knew another being called the Destroyer,” she said, trying to make small talk as they loaded animal cages into a waiting truck. “Though I think this Destroyer is more aptly named than the one I knew.”

“Uh-huh.” He made a show of fussing over a whimpering puppy. “Uh… you said you’re with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“I did.” 

“R-right.” She rolled her eyes. Terrans always acted skittish once they caught sight of her face. 

They finished the task in silence, Selvig yelling at the driver once they were done, and Darcy caught his arm when he began heading to another store. 

“You are out of time, Terran.” She brought his attention to the Destroyer, just reaching the edge of town. “Go. Find your friends and take shelter.” 

She didn’t wait for his reply, climbing onto an abandoned van and making the leap onto a balcony, swinging to the top of the diner. Running across the flat and pitched roofs, she caught a glimpse of the Asgardians heading towards the Destroyer as well, exchanging words before Sif veered off from the rest. Clearly, she had the same idea; Darcy saw her make the leap up to another roof on the other side of the street. 

She watched as Fandral and Hogun flung Volstagg head-on at the Destroyer in what had to be some kind of offensive maneuver, the red-haired Aesir yelling, “ _For Asgaaaard!_ ” as he sailed through the air. 

He smashed into the metal torso, knocking the Destroyer backwards, but the humanoid weapon quickly regained its balance, grabbing Volstagg by the scruff of his neck and hurling him back at Hogun and Fandral, standing a few feet back. The three of them were knocked back, sent sprawling in the dusty street, and Darcy started when she saw the faceplate open, fire building in preparation. 

“Graaaaagh!” Darcy breathed a sigh of relief — she had totally forgotten about Sif. 

Sif yelled, leaping off the roof and plunging her spear deep into its back, the head piercing through the metal body and protruding out from the Destroyer’s stomach. Darcy stood, hopeful, as the fire in the faceplate died, but somehow, the head spun around unnaturally, the fire building again to blast Sif off its back. 

She dodged just in time, somersaulting over the Destroyer’s head to avoid the blast, but was struck in mid-air by a vicious backhand. She flew back, knocking over the Warriors Three just as they were pulling themselves up from their first failed attack. 

The Destroyer unleashed another stream of fire, the blast causing a car to cartwheel through the air and crash into the four Asgardians. They were scattered, thrown back by the impact, unable to do anything as the Destroyer began sending more fire blasts towards the end of the street. 

Darcy’s heart dropped when she saw Thor standing there, along with the other Terrans, no doubt remaining behind out of a sense of misplaced duty. She gritted her teeth, pulling an automatic laser blaster from over her shoulder and leaping down to stand between the Destroyer and the mortals. 

“Lady Darcy —!” 

“Get them out of here!” she yelled, shoving a cartridge of compressed quantum bullets into the empty drum and readying the blaster on her shoulder, aiming for the center of the Destroyer’s chest. “ _Go_!” 

She held down the trigger, grunting at the recoil as the bolts of energy pelted the Destroyer’s metal body, watching as the creature bowed under the assault. She could see, from the corner of her eye, Thor helping Fandral and Hogun drag an unconscious Volstagg back towards the others, Sif limping quickly behind them.

There was the tell-take click, the sign of an empty cartridge, and she tossed the blaster to the side, bracing herself for an attack as she tried to see through the smoke and dust.  The mechanical whirring was her only warning before a stream of fire blasted towards her. 

Darcy tried to duck out of the way, but she cried out when the flames caught her side. She staggered back, trying to keep her mind clear through the haze of pain, and looked down to see her shoulder and part of her hip blistered with at least second-degree burns, maybe even third-degree ones. The metal of her arm and leg shone in the sunlight, stark against the black cloth that was fused with her burnt skin.

“Lady Darcy!” She felt hands pull her back, and tried her best not to scream in pain as something jostled her shoulder. She could make out the worried faces of Selvig and Foster hovering over her, feeling her body lying in the dirt, before Thor’s face filled her vision. 

“I-I am sorry, I could not…” 

“Do not speak, Lady Darcy,” he urged, holding something over her shoulder. She felt something land on her burnt skin, thankful that her cybernetic nerves still intact, and signed in relief as the pain began to lessen. 

“Her hip, Hogun!” The same sensation happened over her side the pain lessening significantly, until she felt only a sharp sting. 

"Whoa…"

“What was that?” Foster asked, awe in her voice.

“Healing stones.” Sif helped her up from the ground, and Darcy winced as the half-healed skin stretched, pain protesting the movement. “They lessen the severity of any wounds, but Lady Darcy’s injuries are too extensive to heal to completion.” Sif looked towards Thor, worry bright in her eyes. “She needs a healer, Thor, and we cannot hold the Destroyer off for much longer.”  

“I know… you have fought well, Lady Darcy,” Thor said, looking over her, then to his companions. “Lady Sif, Fandral, Hogun… protect her and Volstagg, and take my friends to safety.”

“Thor.” Fandral caught his arm, looking at him beseechingly. “This is not the time to do something foolish. We can still fight.” 

“No, Fandral. I must do this.” He smiled gently, eyes running over them all, before striding towards the Destroyer, waiting in the middle of the street. Sif pulled Darcy back, Fandral and Hogun doing the same with Volstagg as the Terrans huddled behind them, all watching as Thor stopped in front of the giant creature, defenseless. 

“What is he doing?” Foster gasped, as Thor began to speak. 

“Brother… for whatever I have done to wrong you, whatever I have done to lead you to do this, I am deeply sorry.” Thor said sorrowfully, as if speaking to Loki. He took a step forward. “But these people… they have done nothing to you. They are innocents in this.” 

He took a step forward, opening his arms wide. “Take my life, and know I will never return to Asgard.” 

“NO!” Jane screamed, as the Destroyer swatted Thor like a fly, his body flying through the air and tumbling down the street, landing in a crumpled heap a few feet from where the rest of them were all gathered. Jane tried running to him, but Selvig held her back, shushing her as she kept calling Thor’s name in tears. The Asgardians looked horrified, and Darcy found herself speechless and stunned. They could all only stand and watch in shock as the Destroyer’s faceplate opened up again, building its fire and aiming at Thor’s prone body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to try writing cliffhanger… ;)


	8. Chapter 8

It happened in less than a heartbeat, lightning crashing down and intercepting the fiery blast, and the collision of two powerful elements caused an explosion, whatever buildings left over from the Destroyer’s rampage quickly blown to bits as loose debris and broken rubble were blown back from the blast. 

Darcy found herself tucked against Sif’s body, and saw the rest of the Terrans similarly protected by the Warriors Three. She had heard that the Aesir were incredibly heavy, their true body mass perhaps four times what their appearance suggested, but seeing Sif stand steadfast against the force of the explosion, Darcy actually believed it. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Sif pulled back, giving Darcy a clear view of the scene, and there, kneeling in the middle of the dust was Thor, clad in silver Asgardian battle armor and a flowing red cape, with the hammer from the S.H.I.E.L.D.-protected crater in hand.

Darcy wasn’t easily impressed, but as she watched Thor do battle with the Destroyer, calling up an electric storm to send lightning strikes to cripple the creature, she could honestly say she was in awe. Thor commanded the storm with ease, wielding the elemental power through Mjolnir as he fought, the Destroyer buckling under his relentless assault. 

With a final yell, Thor thrust the hammer deep into the Destroyer’s faceplate, channeling lightning into its body until it exploded from the inside out, its metal skin breaking to pieces. Thor struck the remaining husk of the weapon to the ground, before sending a final arc of lightning down at the lifeless carcass, leaving it smoking and charred beyond repair. The storm above Thor rumbled, sounding almost content as it hovered overhead, before disappearing as quickly as it came.

Foster ran forward first, throwing her arms around Thor as everyone else followed, stumbling towards the pair.

Sif beamed. “Well done.” 

"Hah!" Selvig clapped Thor on the back, still half in disbelief, but relief was clear in his voice as he said, "I’m starting to like you now, you know."

Hogun nodded, satisfaction clear in his expression, and Darcy only smiled, patting Thor’s arm wordlessly before moving aside. 

“The mighty God of Thunder is back!” Fandral cried boisterously, laughing as he embraced Thor, but they were interrupted by a polite cough. 

Darcy brightened at the sight of their new guest. “You’re alive!”

Coulson sighed, his eyes running over Thor’s transformed outfit, the four new Asgardians, and finally Darcy’s battered form, still supported by Sif. “The mighty God of Thunder, is it?” he asked dryly, and Thor smiled sheepishly. “I don’t think you’ve been completely honest with me.” 

Darcy couldn’t help it. She started laughing, tears nearly running from her eyes, as Thor and Fandral quickly joined her. Sif cracked a grin, with Foster and the boy laughing in sheer relief, and even Selvig chuckled at the sheer absurdity of the situation. 

Coulson just looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You all right there, Agent Lewis?” 

“Yeah,” she gasped, catching her breath through her grin as everyone around her continued to laugh. “Just fine.”

Coulson looked like he wanted to cart all nine of them into an interrogation room for questioning, but when Thor quickly explained the situation to him, he sighed. 

"Let’s go. I’ll just get the story on the way there."

Foster looked put out when Thor climbed into an SUV with Coulson, but Darcy tried to smile at her reassuringly. “Doctor Foster, perhaps it’d be best if I rode with you and your companions in your van?” 

"Oh!" She looked embarrassed to be caught staring, but gave her a shaky smile. "Erm, yes, of course. Right over there." 

She climbed into the passenger seat, wincing still at the stinging pain of her burns, as Foster climbed into the driver’s seat and Selvig and the boy — Boothby, she reminded herself, she really needed to start using his name and stop calling him ‘boy’ like some kind of pet — hopped into the back. Foster started the van with a lurch, Darcy wincing as she was jerked into the seatbelt and back, and the woman winced. 

"Sorry, sorry…" 

"It’s fine," Darcy said weakly, but she was quickly regretting her decision to ride with them as Foster seemed to have terrible driving skills, managing to hit every pot-hole in the road and being a bit rough on the steering as they pulled out of town, following the line of S.H.I.E.L.D. cars already ahead of them. 

"So… Agent Lewis, was it?" 

"Yes, but please, call me Darcy." She craned her neck around, giving Selvig a quick smile. "And I believe you’re Doctor Selvig?"

"Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you already knew that, being with S.H.I.E.L.D. and all." She smiled apologetically. "You’re a lot more polite than that Coulson guy though." 

"Civility doesn’t cost much, I’ve found, but making enemies is ends up with more unpleasant consequences down the road." 

"I’m guessing that Loki was one of those guys?"

She raised an eyebrow, and his lips twisted into a smile “I might’ve been drunk off my ass, but I wasn’t completely dead last night, you know.” 

"Ah." She flushed. "Yes, Loki takes particular pleasure in inciting my anger and picking fights."

"Sounds like a great guy," Foster muttered, and Darcy laughed.

"He’s kind of an evil little shit, to be honest," and at this Foster giggled, Boothby and Selvig chuckling behind her. "Liked to hit below the belt, so to speak."  

"How do you know so much about these guys?" Boothby asked curiously.

Darcy shrugged, quickly defaulting to a prepared response. ”I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting Loki, prior to this whole… debacle. He can slip here from Asgard with magic — probably because the storm portal would attract S.H.I.E.L.D. like flies to honey.” 

"I stumbled upon him one day, and being a bit more… volatile, shall we say, than I am today, we traded words and blows," she continued. "After that, he kept popping up out of nowhere when he was bored so as to ‘test my prowess,’ or so he said." 

"Sounds like you could’ve taken him though," Selvig mused. "Or you did, at least a couple times." 

Darcy raised an eyebrow, and Selvig at least looked a little abashed. “Exactly how long did you eavesdrop on us?” 

"Erm… most of it?" He fiddled with something, a machine that looked like it was cobbled together with junk parts. "Sorry — it was kinda hard not to, ‘specially when Thor started calling you the  _Executioner_  and stuff.” 

"He called you  _what_?” Foster looked disturbed, glancing at her with wide eyes. “People call you the  _Executioner_?”

"I was a mercenary, and I was good at what I did." she said vaguely, but even with the less gory version of the truth the three others stared at her with mixed expressions of fear, awe, and scrutiny. "But I left that life behind about four years ago. S.H.I.E.L.D. ended up finding me, and now, here I am." 

"Four years ago?" Selvig stared at her face. "But you can’t be more than Ian’s age!" 

"He’s…" Foster trailed off, brow furrowing as she glanced at the boy through the rear view mirror. "What, twenty-four? Twenty-five?" 

"Twenty-six actually." Selvig’s tone held a distinct note of disapproval at this, and Boothby groaned. 

"I told you already, Erik, just because I switched majors a few times…" he trailed off, still grumbling, but Darcy ignored him as she did the math in her head. 

"I’m younger, then. I was born in 1989."

"You’re  _twenty-two_?!” Foster looked horrified. “How in the world did you become an assassin by the time you were eighteen? What kind of sick people…”

"It was not by choice, I assure you." She pursed her lips darkly. "I was taken after everyone in the town I lived in was killed. They made me what I am today." 

"Is that how you got that metal arm and leg?" 

Darcy pinned Boothby with a stare, the boy shrinking under her gaze. “Yes,” she said simply, before turning away towards the window.

She heard Selvig slap the boy up the back of the head, muttering something about ‘tactless idiots,’ and ‘couldn’t take a social cue if it hit you in the face.’ She smiled in amusement, face still turned towards the window, and sat out the rest of the ride in silence. 

When they got to the storm site, Darcy stopped in awe, eyes tracing the giant runes carved into the rock. The others were already there, all the Asgardians looking up into the sky worriedly, but Thor perked up visibly once he saw Foster step out of the van. 

"Is something wrong?" Darcy asked, coming to stand by Sif. 

"Heimdall, who guards the Bifrost, refuses to heed our call." She squinted up at the cloudless blue sky. "He would open it if he could… I fear the worst."

"Then we’re trapped here forever?" Volstagg sounded fearful, but Fandral seemed to take the news in stride. 

"Then I suppose we’d best start settling into our new lives," he said cheerfully, sending a charming smile at Darcy, who only blinked. He seemed bewildered at her lack of reaction.

Thor stepped forward, voice booming as he shouted again, “Heimdall!” They all waited with baited breath, hope dying as there was no answer. 

Suddenly, there was a rumble, and Thor laughed joyously as dark clouds rolled in and circled above, converging upon each other until a column of color and light, exploded from the sky, shooting down directly in front of them. The runes on the ground glowed, almost too bright to look at directly, and the Asgardians stepped towards the edge of the Bifrost, waiting as Thor hung back. 

"Know this, Son of Coul," he told Coulson, "You and I, we fight for the same cause — the protection of this world. From this day forward, count me as your ally." 

"Of course —"

"Only," Thor interrupted, glancing at Foster with a private smile, "If you return the items you have stolen from Jane Foster." 

"Not stolen, exactly," Coulson said slowly. "Borrowed, really." 

Foster shot him a dirty look, and he seemed to come to a conclusion as he said, “Doctor Foster, I promise that you’ll get your equipment back — you’re going to need it to continue your research.” He smiled, and sounded a little more genuine as he said, “In fact, after today’s events, S.H.I.E.L.D. would like to fully sponsor your research… if that’s alright with you.” 

Foster looked stunned, and could only nod in shock before Thor caught her hand, murmuring something quiet before kissing her. 

Darcy turned away politely, looking towards the other four Asgardians waiting patiently, and smiled. “Lady Sif, Lord Fandral, Lord Volstagg, Lord Hogun…it was a pleasure to meet you all.”

The Warriors Three all bowed, replying with similar courtesies, but Sif held out her arm out with a fierce smile befitting the Goddess of War. “It was an honor doing battle with you, Lady Darcy.”

Darcy smiled, clasping forearms with her in respect. “May your sword stay sharp and your shield ever steadfast, Lady Sif. Until we meet again.”

They parted with a nod, and Thor stepped up at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder in silent gratitude. She placed hers atop his, squeezed it just as he did to her the night before, and pushed him towards the whirling pillar of light. “Go. I’ll watch over them.” 

"I am honored to call you friend, Lady Darcy." He grinned, his smile bright and sharp. "Farewell." 

He turned, and together all five of them leapt into the Bifrost, their shadows shooting up into the sky. 

Darcy sighed, and turned to see everyone still stunned into silence at the beauty of the portal. Well, all except Foster — she’d gone back to her van and was trying to find something in the messy backseat. Unsuccessfully, Darcy noticed with amusement, as Foster kept trying to keep an eye on the Bifrost while simultaneously attempting to calibrate the device in her hands. 

Coulson had also snapped out of his daze long enough to make a call, no doubt asking some analysis teams to come over to get readings. He came over to where Darcy was sitting in the sand, staring up at the rainbow of light in wonder.

"You’ll ruin your suit if you do that," she remarked, as Coulson eased himself into the dirt beside her. 

"I can get another one." She was amused to see he had put on his sunglasses, colored light reflecting off the black lenses. "You don’t see something like this everyday." 

"Mm-hm." They sat in a comfortable silence, content to bask in the aurora of the portal, before Coulson cleared his throat.

"So." Darcy looked back at him. "You gonna tell me the whole story?" 

She hummed noncommittally. “Depends on what you want to know.”

He snorted. “Fury wants everything you know about these guys.”

"He also wants my life story, and for me to design and build weapons on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s behalf," she countered. "But it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens." 

"He has good intentions." 

"And the road to hell is paved in good intentions, but you’re still ending up in hell."

Coulson sighed. “Barton’s cynicism is rubbing off on you.” 

"You’re the one who partnered him with me." She twisted her lips into a smile. "Terra is years behind the technology found in the outer galaxies, closer perhaps to that of Asgard. And there are beings out there, creatures and monsters that ignore this planet because they see Terrans as a primitive race in the context of the greater world."

Coulson looked vaguely insulted, but Darcy was being completely serious. “They think  _we’re_  the primitive ones?” 

"Sir, if Terra had participated in any of the intergalactic wars that have occurred in the past fifty years, this planet would be little more than debris in this galaxy’s asteroid belt." Coulson looked shocked at that information, but their attention was drawn away by a resounding explosion above them.

To her horror, the Bifrost had exploded, bits of light falling like a meteor shower, and Darcy’s heart sunk as she realized what happened.

Foster’s voice broke as she said, “It’s gone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this marks the end of the Thor saga :) 
> 
> There will be a transition chapter or two, then it's right into the Avengers!


	9. Chapter 9

Darcy had written the mission report with careful detachment, making sure to emphasize how the visiting Asgardians helped evacuate the town and defend against the Destroyer. Coulson had filed it eventually, but not until after he coerced her into telling him what she knew about  Asgard and the other realms under its protection, looking starry-eyed and in awe at her tales and travels. 

His increasing interest in the outer worlds and galaxies seemed genuine, but while Darcy trusted Coulson she knew that he was Fury’s man, through and through. There was no doubt in her mind that every word she spoke about the the realms beyond Terra got back to the director’s ears. 

That was probably the reason she was called to Washington D.C. that day anyways, sitting in the waiting room outside of Fury’s office. The secretary, pristine in a light gray suit and not a hair out of place, made Darcy slouch in her seat even further. She’d been unceremoniously picked up in her time off —  _as she was sleeping,_  mind you — and found herself strapped into a Quinjet seat en route to the capital… still in her pajamas. 

Needless to say, she was  _not_  happy.

“Director Fury will see you now, Agent Lewis,” the secretary chirped, eyeing her S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue workout shirt and her sleeping pants patterned with Captain America’s shield with a sniff of condescension. She didn’t even take a second glance at the metal arm, nor the metallic ribbons scattered across the rest of her skin — probably because she’d looked her fill the first hundred times Darcy had come here. 

Darcy rolled her eyes, muttering a quick “Thanks,” before pushing the door open into the sparse, utilitarian office. 

“Agent Lewis.” Fury raised an eyebrow at her attire. “Planning to take a nap after this?” 

“Be grateful I decided not to set my security systems last night, Director,” she said, unamused and cranky. “Otherwise those men you sent after me would be missing some important parts right now.” 

“I see.” His lips tightened. “I must ask you again, Agent Lewis, to join S.H.I.E.L.D.’s research and development team to assist with—” 

Darcy glared. “My answer, Director, is still, and always will be, a wholehearted no.” 

“You saw what happened out there in New Mexico, Agent Lewis,” Fury said heatedly, standing up in frustration. “You saw what kind of weapons, what kind of power we’re up against. We’re outmatched in every way possible, and if you would just allow us to study—”

“I’ve been very clear about my limits, Director,” Darcy interrupted dangerously, hands curling into fists. Fury’s eyes were drawn to the low hum of her bionic arm, plates of the limb shifting, and he sat down after a moment. 

“You refuse to help us, Lewis,” Fury said through gritted teeth, looking like he had eaten a lemon. “The benefits this technology could offer, to the people of this world, are endless!” 

Darcy snorted, unconvinced. “Your organization is a defense agency specifically designed to deal with threats involving this planet,” she scoffed. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that at least a good portion of that research is going to be focused on developing advanced weaponry!” 

“Lewis —”

“You don’t think I know about what goes on?” she hissed, and Fury fell silent. “You fight for this planet, for the greater good, but you severely underestimate what other worlds out there will do once they see Terra mobilizing in preparation for war!” 

“We didn’t ask for that alien robot to come down and burn down an entire town.” Fury said after a beat, pinning her with a stare. “We didn’t ask for aliens to come falling out of the sky, whether on a goddamn rainbow or in a spaceship, but tough luck — it happened. And this time we didn’t know what we were up against, but the next time something big and bad comes around? We’re going to make sure we’re ready.” 

She stared at him, Fury’s face resolute. “And what of those like Thor, or I myself? Those with no ill-intentions, those who seek asylum; will you treat them as courteously as you treated me? Use them as experiments for your benefit, dissect them for the sake of knowledge, put them to work for your use?”

She thought of her first few weeks here — interrogation, torture, chemical poisoning, sensory depravation… if Thanos had not more creative in breaking her, she would’ve caved easily under S.H.I.E.L.D.‘s care. She shook her head in disgust. “Ask again, ask a thousand more times, and my answer will still be no.”

“I could order you.” 

She smiled grimly. “And I can walk into that lab and force my own body to self-destruct.” 

He caught her gaze, and she stared back resolute, unflinching. After a near minute of silence, he looked away, sighing heavily. 

“The World Security Council is pressuring me to keep you contained,” he said quietly. 

“The World Security Council can take their orders and shove them up their asses,” Darcy retorted, and Fury snorted. 

“I’ll tell them you said that,” he said, amusement in his features, as he pulled a file from the stack on his desk and tossed it in front of her. 

She eyed it like a bomb. 

Fury rolled his eye. “Just take it, Lewis.” 

She shot him a look, and took the file, flipping it open. She looked up, brow furrowed. “You’re making me a nanny?” 

“We’re putting you on protective detail,” he corrected, and she wrinkled her nose. 

“I thought Foster was S.H.I.E.L.D. funded now.” Darcy closed the folder with a snap, plopping into the chair in front of Fury’s desk. “There’s gotta be a full squad out there on guard duty, so why me?” 

“She asked for you specifically,” he grumbled. “Threatened to run off and go back to doing everything herself.” 

“Doctor Foster is a civilian who weighs less than a hundred Terran pounds,” Darcy said, deadpan. 

“We told her no twice, and she ran off both times.” Fury looked like it physically pained him to admit it. “She went off the grid long enough to get asylum from the Venezuelan embassy in Mexico the second time around. Nearly cost us an arm and a leg to get her back,  _and_  she called me a bastard in front of the Venezuelan ambassador.” 

"You’re joking." When he remained silent, Darcy burst out laughing. 

“Cool it, Lewis,” he fumed quietly, the vein in his temple popping out as she continued to gasp for air. “For God’s sake, shut the fuck up!” 

She clamped down the laughter, a giggle escaping as her shoulders continued to shake, and Fury just took the file and threw it at her.

“Just take the damn thing and get the hell out of my office,” he snarled. Darcy sent him a cheeky salute on her way out the door. 

Six months later, she sat on the roof of Foster’s new lab, watching through the skylights as scientists scurried around the space, working on brand-new machines and compiling data as Selvig directed them, often yelling at Boothby to keep up. Agents ran around as well, constantly bringing in new equipment for tests and experiments, and more often than not two of the agents were pulled in to act as the movers — Foster constantly kept changing the lab layout, mostly just to irritate Fury and keep the agents from nosing around too much. 

More often than not, Darcy herself was pulled into the research and experiment process, Foster begging her to help calibrate the machines and supervise the experiments because of her knowledge of Asgard. Even when Darcy had tried to explain that she’d never even been to Asgard, let alone used the Bifrost, the Terran woman was insistent. 

She’d made sure to keep her involvement to the barest of minimums though, preferring to stand watch on the roof or listen to her iPod — she didn’t need Fury thinking she’d suddenly changed her mind. 

She looked over across the roof, where Foster sat hunched over a makeshift desk, one of the lab devices set in front of her. Watching the woman fiddle with the dials and settings, Darcy smiled when a three-dimensional hologram burst to life, projected over the flat top of the machine — a tiny Yggdrasil, its glow highlighting Foster’s silhouette.

Darcy sighed softly, turning her gaze back to the lab below, and left the woman to stare at the little image in wonder and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are coming, the Avengers are coming!


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy actually sort of  _liked_  nanny duty, no matter how much she bitched and whined to Coulson about looking after a bunch of tactless scientists. No snipers shooting at her from above, no pestering from Fury to design weapons, no evil villains trying to take over the planet… It was uneventful and as utterly normal as you could get.

She loved it. 

There was something so comforting about routines, and after nearly a year out in middle-of-nowhere Utica, New York, she’d come to thrive on it. She relied on Foster’s inability for basic bodily upkeep, Selvig’s ever present snark and grumpiness, and Boothby’s ever-present foot-in-mouth syndrome to keep her days going, and so far none of them had disappointed yet. 

Today was a slow day, she noticed, as the usually bustling lab was empty. A few days ago, nearly all the S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists working with Foster had been mysteriously called away to investigate some anomalies occurring with the experiments at another base, Selvig included. With only Boothby left, the boy scrambling to cater to Foster’s demands, the woman was even more frazzled and frustrated than usual. 

Darcy had escaped to the roof quickly, pretending not to notice when the woman kept furiously waving to try and catch her attention. Foster looked put out when Darcy kept playing ignorant, and eventually gave up. 

Humming, she pulled up the newest playlist Clint sent to her last week, aptly named ‘ _fuck responsibility_ ,’ enjoying the scent of the damp, musky summer air as the melody filtered through her headphones. He’d gotten into the habit of putting together song lists for her, giving them quirky and eccentric names like  _‘kiss your way with fists,’_ downbeats perfect for punching sandbags, and  _‘introspection of awesomeness,’_ an eight hour-long playlist of dubstep remixes that Darcy used as a pseudo-alarm for the scientists’ meal times.

Her lips pursed when the song was suddenly interrupted by her bland ringtone, the sound of tinkling chimes that got annoying very quickly. She paused her iPod and hit the answer button on her phone, sighing as she saw the name on the screen. 

“Son of Coul,” she greeted, perching on the parapet of the lab’s roof. “What sad excuse does Fury have you feeding me today?” 

“We need you to come in.” 

She straightened up, noticing immediately the strained note in his voice. “… Sir?” 

“You…” Coulson exhaled softly, as if trying to find words and failing. “There’s been a situation.” 

“What kind of situation?” She frowned. “I thought I was on permanent nanny duty for Foster—”

“Doctor Foster has received a very sudden, very generous consultation offer from the National Observatory of Norway in the remote village of Tromso,” Coulson said very carefully. “She’s already accepted the exclusive opportunity, and a private plane will be at the Utica Regional Airport in an hour’s time. All the arrangements have already been made for Doctor Foster and her intern. Your orders are to ensure their safe arrival at the Tromso landing strip, and standby for further instructions.” 

Darcy was quiet as he spoke, but there was something he was hiding from her, and he was stalling. “Coulson, what’s going on?”

“Your orders have been—”

“What happened?” 

He was silent, and she gripped the phone tighter. “ _Phil_.”

He sighed heavily. “Barton’s been compromised.” 

If she’d been holding her phone with her bionic hand, the device would’ve been little more than broken bits of plastic and electronic parts. “Tell me what happened,” she said, her throat thick and her voice just shy of trembling.

“… Darcy—”

“I swear to the Eternals, Phil,  _if you do not tell me_ —”

“You know I can’t, Darcy.” 

“He’s my best friend.” She swallowed down the panic that kept building in her mouth. “ _Please_.” 

She held her breath, waiting, and finally Coulson sighed. “Two hours ago, the P.E.G.A.S.U.S. facility in New Mexico imploded on itself as a result of heightened activity from an artifact known as the Tesseract activated when the cube generated a portal to an outer galaxy.” He didn’t hear her sharp intake of breath when he said the cube’s name, but Darcy could feel her hands shaking. “The man who came through called himself Loki, and used some kind of mind control on Barton to escape with the Tesseract. I’m afraid he got ahold of Doctor Selvig as well.” 

“… The Tesseract? How… how did S.H.I.E.L.D. find it?” Darcy swallowed, her brain counting through endless theories and possibilities. “How did it even end up here, on _Terra_ , of all places?” 

“You know of it?” 

“Some.” She clenched her metal hand into a fist, staring down at her dark reflection. “Just rumors.” 

“Long story short, someone got ahold of the Tesseract during World War Two, using it to generate weapons against the Allied forces. Captain America killed the guy experimenting with it, but you know that plane he crash-landed in the Arctic?” She remembered vaguely Clint’s crash-course in history, briefly landing on the topic of Captain America’s role in the war before moving past it. “The Tesseract was in there too; Howard Stark found it while he was searching for the plane, and it’s been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hold since.” 

She was silent, her lips bloodied and raw from biting them, and tried to think of the right words to say, but all she could focus on was the Tesseract, the Infinity Gem, the Mind Stone that Thanos had been seeking for  _years_ , and she wanted to scream that it just  _wasn’t fair_. It wasn’t fair that she’d just gotten her life back, she’d made friends and liked her job and even started to forget a little, only here was the ideal opportunity for Thanos to come barreling back into her life again. 

It made her want to throw up. 

“How did Loki—”

“Get Doctor Foster to Norway, and you’ll get the full briefing on the Quinjet,” he interrupted sternly, and this time she stayed silent, gritting her teeth. “Fury’s gathering up some outside help, but he wants you there because you’ve fought Loki before.”  

She snarled at the thought of the dark-haired god. “I’ll claw him apart until his organs are wrapped around his own throat.” 

“Fury wants him alive.”

“What about half-alive?” she asked darkly.

“Unharmed.” 

“Un-maimed?” 

“Physically and mentally whole,” he clarified. She growled, but was satisfied as he conceded, “but who knows if that’s even possible?” 

She laughed, but it sounded hollow and sad, even to her ears. “… Phil?” 

“Yes?” 

“… Tell me they’re alive?” She needed to hear it.

“We think so,” was the diplomatic answer, and she wanted to scream. “Like I said, get Foster to Tromso, and someone will brief you further upon pickup. You’ll get orders upon landing.” 

“Who’s on pickup?” 

At this, she could practically feel Coulson’s smile through the phone. “I believe it’s time for you to meet the Black Widow.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy squinted up at the approaching Quinjet, shielding her eyes from the generated wind as it hovered over the tarmac, touching down with a squeak of rubber against asphalt. She waited for the engines to power down, but instead the jet slowly maneuvered around, turning so the tail end faced her. 

There was a loud hum, and her eyes tracked the movement of the jet’s belly, the cargo ramp lowering to the ground to reveal a broad silhouette. 

She raised an eyebrow at the man who stepped down, immediately zeroing in on her form and stepping forward tentatively. 

“Agent Lewis?” 

“That’s me.” Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m a little behind on the times, but I’m pretty sure you’re not the Black Widow.” 

“No, I’m not.” He didn’t respond to the gentle teasing, instead giving her a tight smile, his blue eyes strained. He held out a hand. “Captain Steve Rogers. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m sort of not in the mood for false pleasantries.” 

Her eyes traced over the uniform, muted in the darkness, but the white star a stark contrast against the red and blue of the rest of his outfit. She opened her mouth to comment, but thought better of it when his shoulders tensed and his lips thinned. 

“It’s fine. No hard feelings,” she replied finally, taking the offered hand and letting the light from the jet catch the glint of her skin. To his credit, he didn’t react past a quick, cursory glance. 

“Shall we?” He pulled his hand back quickly, gesturing to the Quinjet. “We’re on somewhat of a tight schedule.” 

“Of course.” She couldn’t help but notice the tenseness of his shoulders as they ascended up the cargo ramp, and once he dropped the polite smile it seemed like a grimace had etched itself into his expression. 

“Strap in if you’d like,” he said, gesturing at the empty harnesses lining each side of the cargo bay. “We’re due in Stuttgart in twenty.” 

“As in Germany?” She frowned. “Coulson’s brief didn’t mention anything about Stuttgart.”

“Satellite recognition found a ninety-six percent cross match of Loki entering the annual gala for the Stuttgart Museum.” Darcy looked towards the cockpit, spotting red hair peeking over the pilot’s seat. She came forward, not at all surprised when the redhead’s neck craned back, green eyes meeting Darcy’s own. 

“The infamous Black Widow, I presume?” Darcy offered the woman a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Same here.” The woman’s lips quirked up into a half-smile, looking back to the cloudy night sky. “Though according to the rumors, you were supposed to have blue skin and tentacles.” 

“Only for hazing recruits on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Darcy said with a shrug, slipping into the cockpit’s other empty seat. “Coulson brings me specifically to terrorize the new ones.” 

Romanoff let a low, throaty laugh escape. “He’s got you on training range duty?” 

“Clint and I…” She stopped short as Romanoff pursed her lips, and Darcy pushed away the hurt that came with his name, “Between the two of us, it’s easier to weed out the ones too soft for field work. Coulson always takes those ones, teaches them himself… and in the end, they always end up being the best.” 

The redhead smiled. “Sounds like him.” 

Darcy hummed, peering out the window as the bright lights of a city peeked through the clouds. “So, Stuttgart?” she prompted. 

“The objective is apprehending Loki, which in theory, shouldn’t be easy… assuming he sets up some surprises for us first.” Romanoff flipped a couple switches, maneuvering the jet and descending below the clouds. “I’ll be on air support, while you both go down keep him occupied.” 

Darcy didn’t want to ask, but she knew it was a very likely possibility. “And if Clint…?” 

Romanoff flinched, but recovered quickly. “According to our intel,” At that, Romanoff quirked an eyebrow in Darcy’s direction, and she grinned, “he prefers fighting with an advantage, so we’re giving you one too.” Darcy nodded, while outside, the full brightness of the city burst into full view. 

“I never understood why your Terran cities needed so many lights,” Darcy said offhandedly, wincing at the vividness of the white and yellow glow. “Your kind doesn’t seem to value the beauty of a star-filled sky.” 

“  _‘Your kind?’_  ” Darcy looked over at Rogers, who was frowning at her with obvious disapproval. “From what I’ve heard, you’re as human as the rest of us.” 

She exchanged a glance with Romanoff. “He doesn’t know?” 

“Just the basics… the briefing was mainly for Banner.” The woman shrugged unapologetically. “And Coulson knows you prefer to explain it yourself.”

Darcy turned back to Rogers, and even though she’d thought him handsome at first, the expression he wore — like he’d tasted something foul — made him look rather unattractive. 

“Between the three of us here? By S.H.I.E.L.D.’s definition, none of us are classified as completely ‘ _human_ ,’ per se,” Darcy said, watching as the crease in Rogers’s forehead grew deeper. “All three of us fall under the category of ‘ _artificial metahuman_ ;’ basically, superhuman abilities gained through artificial means.” 

He looked like someone had struck him. “So the super soldier serum…” 

Darcy gave him a grim smile. “You’re kind of the poster child, Captain.” 

“… And her?” he said archly, jerking his head towards the cockpit. “You?” 

“Banner’s alter ego was a result of trying to recreate the super soldier serum Erksine used on you.” Darcy glanced at Romanoff, who continued easily, “I was part of a program that tried the same thing. They were… successful, more or less.” 

The halting, tight tone of the woman’s voice was enough for Rogers, wisely choosing not to ask any more questions. When he turned his eyes to Darcy, she simply pulled off her jacket, her sleeveless top exposing both her natural and artificial arms to Rogers’s gaze. 

“I was abducted as a child, ended up passed out, and woke up like this.” Darcy smiled wryly, staring at the contrast of skin against metal. “Escaped that life a few years back, but with weapons built into your body S.H.I.E.L.D. tends to treat you like a living bomb.” 

“And you can’t pass it off as a prosthetic?” Rogers leaned a little closer, studying the delicately layered panels that made up her bionic arm, the plates thinning as they crawled up her arm until they flowed from her shoulder across the rest of her skin, like tendrils of ivy. 

“Only Stark has the tech to build something this sophisticated, and he’s not really on good terms with S.H.I.E.L.D.” Darcy shrugged. “And even in S.H.I.E.L.D., all people see are the cybernetics and the nerve implants, not the person who has to live with them… They think ‘ _cyborg_ ,‘ not ‘ _human.’_  ”

His lips tightened, staring at the ribbons that wove across her skin, before Romanoff interrupted. “Looks like Loki’s making his move.” She and Rogers were at the cockpit in less than a moment, the man looking a bit surprised at her speed, but Darcy focused on the growing mass of people congregating outside the Stuttgart Museum, a lone figure in a horned helm emerging from the museum entrance without a care. 

“Sorry to interrupt ‘show and tell,’ ” Romanoff shifted gears, vertically lowering the Quinjet down closer to the city. “But it looks like the two of you are up.” 

Darcy looked at Rogers, who stared down at the scene. “Any ideas?” 

“He knows how you fight,” he said, striding back to the cargo bay and yanking a parachute from the wall. “You can wait as backup, and I can—” 

“Uh, no can do, Captain.” Darcy forced him to a stop with her metal arm. “This isn’t one of those hero things where you go and save the day. Loki’s not like anyone you’ve ever fought before.” 

He looked like there was a scathing remark lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he was holding himself back for the sake of politeness. “So what do you suggest then, Lewis?”

She set her jaw, staring up at him. “Let me distract him. Like you said, he knows how I fight — he’ll get cocky. It’ll give you the chance to take him out.” 

Rogers was silent for a moment, before nodding shortly. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

He didn’t wait for her before jumping out of the plane, and Darcy looked back at Romanoff incredulously. “Is he normally this cheerful or is he just always a dick?” 

“Gotta give him some slack, Lewis,” the redhead called back. “The guy woke up from the ice less than two weeks ago.” 

The information sobered her, and she felt her irritation at the man lessen, at least a little. She didn’t bother saying goodbye before grabbing another parachute and leaping out of the jet, streamlining her body towards the silhouette of Rogers’s parachute against the city lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes off as kind of cold here, but considering his actions in the Avengers movies I thought it somewhat appropriate. He'll get better, promise!


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy crept forward, moving against the crowd slowly as people tried running away from whatever stunt Loki pulled. She winced when he fired at the oncoming police cars, the vehicles flipping over and bursting into flame in the middle of the street. 

He came to a stop at the edge of the plaza, outfitted in full warrior regalia, and called out, “Kneel before me.” 

She wanted to smack herself. She’d thought he was an insufferable little shit before this all, but the god sounded half-crazed, a maniacal smile stretching across his face. 

That smile turned into a snarl when the crowd only tried running away faster. Darcy was nearly knocked over when the surge of people came to a sudden stop, bodies piling up in the sudden scramble, and looked up to see Loki’s favorite trick, doppelgänger illusions, herding people into the center of the plaza.

“I said,  ** _KNEEL_**!” The final word, laced with magic and power, echoed above all the chaos, and all the noise seemed to be sucked out of the air as people fell to their knees. Darcy followed suit, pulling her trusty electroshock plasma gun from the holster at her hip -- she figured that if it could stop Thor in his tracks, mortal or not, it’d have to affect Loki at least a little. 

The elderly man next to her looked at the large gun with raised brows, and Darcy placed a finger to her lips as Loki began his villainous monologue -- he really had to stop playing to the stereotype. 

“Is not this simpler?” He held his arms out to the crowd, smiling like some kind of benevolent ruler. “Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation!” 

“What a load of shit,” Darcy muttered, ducking her head down when Loki’s eyes zeroed in towards her direction, narrowing slightly before continuing. 

“The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity... you were made to be ruled.” Loki stopped, basking in the middle of the kneeling crowd, and chuckled. “In the end, you will always kneel.”

A wrinkled, hand dotted with liver-spots caught her gaze as it patted her forearm gently, and Darcy looked up in time to see the old man smile at her reassuringly before standing up. She looked up at him with wide eyes, hissing quietly,  _“What are you--?!”_

“Not to men like you.” Darcy cursed, pulling open the ammunition drum of the gun and loading in a round of compressed bola bullets, working as quickly as she could. 

“There are no men like me,” Loki said archly, as everyone’s eyes turned to stare at the old man at Darcy’s side, his back hunched over with age and his posture defiant. 

Darcy reached up to grip the man’s hand, trembling at his side, and she smiled when she was rewarded with a fierce, grateful squeeze. He smiled, the wrinkles around his face crinkling as he said sadly, “There are always men like you.”

“Look to your elder, people.” Loki laughed derisively, but the anger clouding his expression betrayed him. Slowly, others in the crowd began to rise, and Loki snarled, raising his staff and pointing it at the man. “Let him be an example.” 

Around them, people began backing away, watching wide eyed as the man remained still, but Darcy had heard enough. She yanked the hammer of the gun back and fired, Loki’s attention drawn by the crackling of the electrically-charged bolas whipping through the air. He tried dodging, but instead caught the weapon around his scepter-wielding arm, the shock it delivered causing him to drop the staff. 

Darcy took the chance to push the old man in the direction of the fleeing crowd, not noticing his grateful look back at her as she reset the gun, aiming it at Loki’s head this time. The dark-haired god had already yanked the thin steel cable off his arm with a wince, avoiding the still sparking balls of plasma at each end, but she smiled grimly in satisfaction when she saw the melted imprints of the cables left in his gauntlets. 

“Hello, Loki.” 

“Xania.” He bared his teeth at her, his arm still smoking. He made a move to reach down and grab the scepter lying on the ground, but yanked his hand out of the way just as another set of bolas missed his finger by a second, knocking the scepter back away from Loki. 

He looked over his shoulder, staring at the glowing staff, before turning back to Darcy with a sickly smile. “Oh Xania, how much I’ve heard about you,” he purred, slinking forward slowly as she tried to shake off the shivers that went down her spine at his oily tone. 

“If you were going for creepy, congratulations, you’ve succeeded,” she said, trying to hide her unease, but Loki laughed. 

“Oh, he said you liked to talk back.” Darcy twitched, her mind immediately going to Clint, and she saw red. 

“What did you do to him?!” she hissed, and Loki laughed. 

“Like I could’ve even touched him,” he said, snorting, but he caught Darcy’s look of confusion and smiled gleefully. “Oh, you thought I was talking about your little archer, weren’t you?” 

Darcy didn’t even hesitate before firing again, this time catching Loki around both arms and his torso. She watched him wince, impassive as he fell to the ground. “I never liked your riddles.”

“Then let me speak plainly,” Loki laughed, looking up at her with a feral smile. “The Mad Titan sends his regards. He wants his  _Star-Hunter_  back.” 

She felt like she’d been dunked in an ice bath, her vision going blurry and her hearing muffled, and she didn’t register the punch to her stomach until her back hit the ground, her skull cracking against the pavement. Darcy looked up dizzily, and through her vision she saw Loki’s bound form disappear into wisps of green magic. 

“He was ever so glad to hear that you were alive, though.” Loki stood over her, triumphant smile on his face and scepter back in hand. She tried getting up, but with a wave of his hand she sunk to the ground, pulled down by increased gravity, her muscles straining against the weight. “He did ask me to bring you back... but he didn’t say exactly which  _parts_.” 

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut, cheek pressed to stone and her back buckling down on her lungs, but there was a loud thwack from above her, something whistling in the air as the pressure lifted and she gasped for breath. 

“You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Rogers offering a hand to her, his gaze trained on Loki. She took the hand with a wince, Rogers hauling her up with little effort. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, and Rogers spared her a glance as he caught his boomeranging shield with his free hand.

“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said gruffly, but both of them were interrupted by Loki’s growl. 

“The soldier.” Loki pulled himself up. “A man out of time.” 

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.” 

The wind stirred behind her, and Darcy looked up to see the Quinjet, hovering over the three of them with a machine gun aimed towards Loki. 

Romanoff’s voice rang through the air. “Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.” 

Loki answered with a blast of blue light, and when the Quinjet swerved Rogers threw his shield, running toward the god as Darcy dove for her gun. 

She tried looking for an opening, either to get a shot in with the gun or with her fists, but Rogers circled and flipped around Loki with a flair that was both graceful and clumsy at once. The awkwardly flailing limbs swung into graceful lines and punches as Loki tried overwhelming Rogers, and when Darcy tried getting closer Rogers shook his head at her wildly. He was knocked down for his trouble, Loki holding the tip of the spear to his head. 

“Kneel.” 

Rogers made eye contact with her, and she nodded. “Not today!” The last bola bullet from her gun caught Loki’s ankles, and Rogers used his shield to knock Loki off balance. Darcy winced when Loki used the scepter like a bat to swat Rogers away, and she tossed the gun away as she rushed in, the plates of her arm shifting as she readied herself for a close range fight. 

The energetic beat of what Darcy recognized as AC/DC's ' _Shoot to Thrill'_  suddenly blared through the Quinjet loudspeakers, all of them stopping to stare up at the jet in varying stages of incredulousness and confusion. Darcy smiled as she saw a human-sized figure swoop down over the nose of the jet, blasting Loki back to the ground with white beams of light. 

Darcy eyed the red and gold suit as it touched down next to her, watching with interest as all manner of weaponry folded out of the metal plates and aimed towards Loki’s prone form. 

“Make your move, Reindeer Games.” Loki eyed the weapons, his gaze shifting to land on Darcy’s still fisted hands and Rogers, who came up to stand on Darcy’s other side. Slowly, he raised his hands, armor melting away until he was left with his normal Asgardian attire. 

“Good move.” The weapons retracted back into the red and gold suit, and Loki raised his eyebrows, mouth opening to say something. 

Darcy stepped forward, punching him across the face with all the strength she could muster. When Loki didn’t get up, there was a low whistle from behind her. 

“Nice arm, Agent Lewis.” 

She turned, smiling tightly as she was met with the Ironman faceplate and Rogers, his blue eyes lit in reluctant approval. 

“Thanks.” She reached down and grabbed the edge of Loki’s coat, her metal hand flexing as it compensated for the Asgardian’s weight. “Shall we?” Darcy didn’t wait for a reply, striding between both men as she dragged Loki behind her, the cargo ramp of the Quinjet lowering towards her in welcome. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to help me out with Tony's nicknames for Darcy? All I can come up with are obscure video game references…. :/ Help a girl out, please?!


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t like it.” 

"What?" Stark snorted, ruffling his hair as he cradled his helmet at his side. “Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

“I don’t remember it being ever that easy.” The suspicion was clear in Rogers’s voice, and out of the corner of her eye Darcy saw him glance back at Loki, his gaze then sliding over to her. “This guy packs a wallop.”

“Still, you are pretty spry, for an older fellow.” Stark shrugged. ”What’s your thing, pilates?” 

“… What?” She snorted at Rogers’s confusion, ignoring him when he shot her a look.

“It’s like calisthenics.” Stark half-mimed a few stretches. “No? Well I guess you might’ve missed a couple things. You know, doing time as a Capsicle.” 

Darcy ignored Stark’s goading as she kept her eyes trained on Loki. The god had woken up just after he’d been strapped into the Quinjet seat he now occupied, but his expression had settled into an unsettling smirk, one that remained on his face even until now. It gave Darcy a measure of satisfaction to tighten the manacles around his wrists to a painful degree, if the way he kept wincing was any indication. 

“You froze up back there.” She tore her eyes away from Loki and looked up, raising her eyebrows when she found Rogers staring down at her. She chanced a quick glance behind him, where Stark was pretending to be tinkering with his helmet, and dragged her eyes back to Rogers’s concerned gaze.

“Sorry. It won’t happen again,” she said curtly, derisively looking away. 

“What did he say?” He frowned when she kept silent, looking back at Stark for a moment before leaning closer. “Lewis —” 

“It’s nothing.” She swallowed thickly, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Loki stare right at her, his smirk stretching wider. She knew Rogers noticed it too. “It’s… he was just talking shit. I’m fine.” 

“Oh?” Darcy set her jaw, the feel of his stare burning into her cheek. 

“We’ve fought before, and he knows how to get under my skin.” 

“Obviously he said something different this time, if you reacted like that.” 

“I’m fine,” she bit out. “It was just… he got a little more personal, than before.”

It was a weak excuse, and both of them knew it. “Who’re you trying to convince, me or you?” When she stubbornly didn’t answer again, he sighed, slipping into the seat beside her. “Look, I’m not trying be insensitive here, but if you have some idea about Loki’s plans, you need to help us out here.” 

She shook her head, her tongue heavy in her mouth. “I… It’s personal, Rogers.” 

“Loki’s killed close to a hundred people in two days, and he’s controlling S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel for his own agenda.” She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly at the reminder as Clint’s face flashed under her eyelids, Selvig’s following. She must’ve looked pretty shaken still, because Rogers’s voice softened a little as he said, “I’m sorry, but you don’t have the luxury of it being personal anymore.” 

“Having fun over there, you two?” Rogers exhaled slowly, his jaw ticking as Stark’s loud voice interjected itself into the conversation. “Should I take Snape over there and let you have some privacy with Samus?” 

Darcy’s eyes were drawn to Rogers’s tightening fists, and gave the man a warning glance that he resolutely ignored as he glanced back at Stark. To his credit, Stark didn’t even look fazed at Rogers’s icy glare. “You know, Fury didn’t tell me he was calling you in.”

“Yeah, well…” Stark snorted, the condescension dripping from his voice. “There’s a lot of things Fury doesn’t tell you.” 

Rogers stood up, his body tensing, but he was suddenly thrown off balance by the nearly ear-splitting sound of thunder, the following crack of lightning barely missing the jet and causing it to rattle violently. 

“Where’s this coming from?” Romanoff sounded strained, trying to control the Quinjet’s flight through the storm, but another thunderous rumble caused the plane to shake. 

Darcy noted that the smirk had been wiped off Loki’s face, anxiety replacing the smug expression as he stared out the window. 

“What’s the matter?” Evidently, Rogers noticed as well. “Scared of a little lightning?” 

Loki grimaced, still warily glancing around the Quinjet, as if expecting something to appear out of thin air. “… I’m not overly fond of what follows.” 

When the sudden crack of lightning struck again, Darcy nearly smacked herself. “Oh,  _Celestials_ , I’m an idiot.” Rogers looked at her oddly and opened his mouth to ask, but his attention was drawn by the loud groan of metal against metal.

It the span of a second, the rear end of the Quinjet was gone, gusting winds whipping into the cargo bay as a large, looming silhouette landed in the jet with a loud thump. Stark struggled to put on his helmet and Rogers ducked behind his shield to fend against the force of the gusts, but Darcy merely clung to the seatbelt straps next to her, her expression lightening as she spotted the familiar face.

“Lord Thor!” To her dismay, her words were lost in the wind, as Thor’s gaze was immediately drawn to Loki, who looked like he was trying to shrink into his seat. With a growl, Thor reached out and tore through the seat straps holding Loki down, grabbing the dark-haired god around the neck and flying out without a word. 

“And now there’s that guy.” Stark growled. Rogers still looked bewildered, staring at the open end of the jet. 

Romanoff wasn’t as distracted. “Another Asgardian?” 

“Lord Thor.” Darcy interjected, Rogers turning to look at her incredulously. “And he’s a friend, Stark — he pledged to help protect Terra and its people.”

“So Point Break is a Lord, and I’m just Stark?” The slits in the Ironman faceplate lit up in a white light, as Stark’s grumbles turned mechanical through the suit’s voice modulator. “Doesn’t matter if he’s your friend, Lewis — he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract’s lost.”  

He got to the edge of the ramp just as Rogers called out, “Stark, we need a plan of attack!” 

“I have a plan.” Stark looked over his shoulder. “Attack.” 

Darcy cursed when he flew off into the night, the light trails from the Ironman repulsors glowing bright against the sky. Rogers grabbed a parachute pack just barely dangling off the wall, intending to follow, but when she went to do the same, she stopped short in dismay as her hand met empty air — the rest had been blown off board by Thor’s stunt. 

“I’d sit this one out, Cap,” Romanoff called back. 

“I don’t see how I can.” He pulled on the pack, buckling and strapping himself into it with the ease of practice.

“Care to give a girl a lift?” Darcy gave Rogers a rueful smile, one he managed to return as he nodded, helping her yank straps from the walls of the jet as she created a makeshift harness for herself, effectively tying herself to Rogers.

“These guys come from legends — they’re basically gods.”

“There’s only one God, ma’am.” Rogers looked down at her, eyes questioning, and as Darcy nodded back she noticed how short she was in comparison to him. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh as Rogers leaped out of the Quinjet, the pair of them free-falling to the ground as the wind whipped around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Samus** was literally the first thing that popped into mind when I started thinking of nicknames, and obviously a lot of you guys thought so too! I used it in this chapter because I wrote this before posting the previous chapter, but rest assured that I'm be using a lot of your ideas in future chapters. Thanks to everyone for all the suggestions!


	14. Chapter 14

Rogers landed with a solid thump, effortlessly compensating for her weight as he began trying to untie Darcy’s makeshift harness. They ended up on the side of a rocky cliff, but she couldn’t see much besides the swaying dark forms of trees, for miles around.

He made a noise of frustration as he struggled with the knots, and she rolled her eyes, producing a knife with a flip of her wrist and slicing through the cords with ease. He gave her a look, one she was quickly realizing to be his expression of disapproval, but she just smiled back cheekily.

His brows turned down into a frown as he looked around, no doubt realizing the distinct lack of any Asgardian, or Stark. He looked like he was going to point out the obvious, but he averted his eyes skyward when she bent over to touch her toes, her ass in the air. “Really, Lewis?”

"First of all, you’re not the one who was in the baby harness, Rogers," she drawled, sighing happily as her back cracked. "And second, I’m the one that had to cling to you like a  _krzyltol_  while you just sat there, strapped into your parachute. You have no right to judge.”

"No complaints here," he muttered, and she peeked through her legs at him incredulously. She only saw the wince he made at the sharp cracking sound from her back. "And what’s a… a  _kurziltal_?”

"A  _krzyltol_ …  five tentacles, size of your hand, feeds on brain matter?” He looked more and more clueless, but more and more disgusted as Darcy brought a hand to her head, miming an eating motion. “They attach themselves to the skull and chew through the bone to suck out your —”

"Brain, yes, I got that." Rogers looked distinctly ill, and while an amused smile played on her lips, she changed the subject.

"So what’s the plan, Cap?" She stood up, now stretching her arms to the sky and arching lewdly, and this time she got to see the dark flush that spread from the tips of his ears as he turned away again.

"Please don’t call me that," he muttered, "And can you  _please_  stop —”

Whatever he said next was lost as there was a massive crash, the sound of a tree groaning as it toppled over. The ground beneath Darcy’s feet trembled, and she exchanged a quick glance with Rogers before looking in the direction of the sound.

"Oh, this is _fantastic_ ," she muttered, looking up at the sixty degree incline above her. This time Rogers was the one who laughed, and together the two of them began scaling the steep rock face.

It took less time than she’d expected, but by the time they’d scaled the cliff she was a sweaty, aching mess. Rogers, on the other hand, looked fresh as a spring flower, and grinned at her smugly when she scowled at him.

"Not a word, Rogers," she growled, and she looked over the ledge to see two figures, standing face to face in a crater of felled trees.

She winced when Stark obviously said something that angered Thor, if the way he flung Mjolnir at Stark’s suit was any indication.

"They’re going to knock down the entire forest at this rate," she said, but when she looked at Rogers his attention was clearly focused on something else directly below them, and considering the dangerous expression on his face, she looked down and groaned. 

"Oh, for fuck’s sake." The two idiots had left Loki sitting on a rock ledge all by his lonesome, and by the looks of it he was enjoying the entertainment immensely. Darcy grabbed Rogers by the arm, hissing, "Go break it up — I’ll get Loki."

She rolled her eyes when he gave her that same look again. “And when he talks shit again and gets away?”

"How about considering the fact that he hasn’t left yet, when he could’ve ran the moment this whole shit-show started," she retorted, bristling.

"Fine." Rogers straightened his cowl, slinging his shield from his back onto his arm as he prepared to join the fight. "But if he gets away, it’s on you."

She made a crude Xandarian gesture at his retreating back — the Terran ones never seemed emphatic enough for her tastes, and it was basically inviting someone to come take a bite — and jumped down to land behind Loki with a heavy thud. He didn’t even flinch, craning his neck back to greet her with a dark smile.

“ _Xa_  —  _urk_!” She didn’t let him even get her name out before hauling him to the ground, his words catching in his throat as he choked. Darcy sat on his torso, pinning down his arms with her knees and wrenched his chin down as she held a knife to his open mouth.

"Speak and I’ll cut out that silver tongue of yours, god or not." He studied her expression, raising an eyebrow, but flinched when she pressed the knife to the edge of his lips. "Try me,  _Liesmith_.”

He sighed, nodding slightly, and she pulled the knife away, placing it at his neck instead. The sharp edge dug into his throat, the coated Kree blade slicing through Loki’s toughened skin and drawing blood. He didn’t react, merely staring at her wordlessly, and his fluctuating emotions were beginning to niggle at her, like an itch that wouldn’t go away no matter how much she scratched it.

Her only warning was a roaring battle cry she recognized as Thor’s, and Darcy looked up just in time to see the impact of Mjolnir against Rogers’s vibranium shield, her eyes tracking the tangible shock wave radiating out until it hit her smack in the center of the chest.

Darcy was thrown back as her knife slipped out of her hand, gasping for breath as the aftershock threw her back into the rock face. She winced when she felt sharp rock dig into her spine and thighs, and when the wave passed, she collapsed to the ground limply, catching herself on her hands, and gulped air as quickly as she could. She heard Rogers’s voice very faintly through the ringing of her ears, but the crunch of gravel next to her ear drew her attention.

"Need a hand?" She looked up to see Loki leaning over her with a mocking smile, and she growled when he had the gall to hold out his hand. Red was still trickling down his neck, but the cut was completely healed under the still wet blood. 

"Go fuck yourself." She reached out with her bionic arm, and used what strength she had to yank his ankle out from under him, watching as Loki lost his balance and tumbled over the edge of the little rock ledge.

She pulled herself up to watch Loki slide down the rest of the cliff face first, skidding to a stop in the middle of the three-way standoff that leveled the rest of the forest. Thor looked torn between emotions, both incredulous and disapproving, but Rogers looked like he was trying very hard not to smile as he nudged Loki’s side with his toe. He was rewarded with a low groan.

"You’re welcome, assholes," she croaked, and Stark didn’t even pretend to hide his laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter by any means, but something to tide you over until the more intense stuff comes along.


	15. Chapter 15

“Thirty thousand feet, straight down in a steel trap… you get how that works?” Fury’s voice was sharp over the sound of howling wind that blared from a set of speakers, as the monitor mounted into the briefing table depicted an enclosed glass room, suspended over an open drop into clouds. Fury pressed a button, the hatch beneath the glass closing, and gestured to Loki. “Ant… boot.” 

“It’s an impressive cage.” Loki drawled, “Not built, I think, for me.” 

“Built for something a lot stronger than you,” Fury retorted, and Loki’s gaze shifted to stare directly into the security camera. 

Darcy fidgeted in her chair at the Helicarrier’s briefing desk, seated besides an equally uncomfortable-looking Bruce Banner. She chanced a glance at the rumpled man, who stared at the video feed with an intense expression of concentration, but the frown she wore on her face deepened at Loki’s next words. 

“The mindless beast, makes play he’s still a man.” The smirk was clear, condescension dripping from his words. “How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost, useless creatures to defend you?”

“How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can’t hope to control, you talk about peace, and you kill ‘cause it’s fun,” Fury spat angrily. “You have made me  _very_  desperate. And you might not be glad that you did.” 

“ _Ooh_ … It burns you to come so close.” Loki smiled wickedly. “To have the Tesseract, to have power beyond fathoming, unlimited power that  worlds beyond yours have achieved.” He glanced back at the camera again, and Darcy knew that barb was aimed at her. “And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded of what  _real_  power is…” 

Fury didn’t react at the jab, instead taking his leave with one last parting shot. “Well, you let me know if  _‘real power’_  wants a magazine or something.” 

The screen paused, showing Loki standing in his cell, staring up at the camera with a disturbing smile, and Darcy didn’t even know what to think.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Banner snorted, and he leaned back into his seat with a funny smile on his face. 

“Like a parasite you want to cut out and burn to ash,” she muttered.

Rogers shook his head, his hands curling into fists as he stared at the screen. “Loki’s going to drag this out. So Thor, what’s his play?” 

Thor looked grim, his expression serious as he paced slowly across the deck of the Helicarrier. “He has an army, called the Chitauri. Loki means to lead them against your people, and they will win him your planet… in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.” 

“An army?” Rogers looked bewildered. “From outer space?”

“They are not of Asgard, or any world known.” Romanoff frowned at this as Thor said, “My father has told me the little he has heard of them in his lifetime… but he spoke of something most disturbing to me.”

His gaze stopped on Loki’s image on the monitor, then to Darcy, his eyes hard as he rumbled, “It is out of courtesy from our last meeting that I stay my hand, Lady Darcy, but I must ask you where your loyalties lie in this fight — I would have words with one who betrays Midgard in this manner.” 

Darcy flinched, and although Rogers leapt out of his seat to reach for his shield, Romanoff already had a gun aimed at her forehead.  She noted that Thor’s hand was clutched around Mjolnir, Maria Hill behind him also pointing a gun at her, while Banner was the only one who hadn’t moved, though there was a distinctly green tinge to his exposed forearms as they rested on the table. 

Rogers’s gaze was stony, his jaw clenched. “Exactly what are you saying, Thor?” 

“I do not know what she has told you of her past,” the Asgardian said, eyes flashing, “but the Lady Darcy is known amongst the realms and outer worlds as the  _Executioner_ , in service to a ruthless being older than even the All-father.”

"The  _Executioner_?” Hill parroted, hardness falling over her features. “You said you were just an assassin.”

Darcy didn’t react under her accusing tone. “I was good at my job,” she said coolly, her eyes sliding to Romanoff. “Are assassins such a novelty here on Terra?”

"Assassins aside," Banner exhaled slowly, his expression a mask of forced calm as his skin kept the greenish tone, "Does this  _'ancient being'_  have a name?” 

Thor shook his head. “His title remains unknown, but his designs on items of power is infamous — in the past decades there have been attempts to steal artifacts from Asgard’s treasury vault by one I know the Lady Darcy is familiar with — she who is called the  _Soul-Reaper_.” 

She tensed at the name Gamora had always hated, one she hadn’t heard in years, and Romanoff flicked the safety of her gun in response. “I know the Chitauri only from a desperate ploy to raid the vaults of Asgard in my youth,” Thor continued. “They are normally commanded by the  _Butcher_  — sister of the  _Soul-Reaper_  and the  _Executioner_.” 

Rogers looked horrified, but Romanoff looked back at her impassively — out of everyone, Darcy knew the former Red Room agent would remain unfazed at her monikers. 

"So there’s kind of a huge conflict of interest." Banner laughed hollowly. "You got a name for us?" His eyes cut towards hers, and Darcy swallowed. 

"Names are powerful things, Doctor Banner," she said quietly. "I do not dare speak his name here, lest you wish to incur his wrath."

"And you?" Hill started when Rogers turned to her accusingly. "How much of this do you and Fury know?" 

“This is the first time I’ve heard of this,” Hill murmured, and Darcy didn’t think it’d hurt that much to see so much suspicion aimed in her direction after trying for years to cultivate S.H.I.E.L.D.‘s trust, despite the understandable wariness. “There were attempts to… question Lewis, upon her arrival, but she resisted our methods. We ended up on a compromise.” 

“You mean you tried to torture it out of me, and when that didn’t work you tried to kill me instead,” Darcy interjected lowly. Rogers looked stricken at that as Thor frowned at Hill in disapproval, but Banner looked like he sympathized a little. “And you couldn’t kill me, so then you decided it would be a good idea to finally talk like civilized beings, since you couldn’t use me as an experiment in your lab!” She bit her lip, her robotic arm flexing and shifting in her anger, and Romanoff wordlessly whipped out another gun and aimed it at her arm. 

“You don’t want to do that, Romanoff,” Darcy said softly, but the redhead didn’t blink. Her gaze shifted towards the others in the room, meeting Thor’s troubled gaze. 

“I spoke to you of my past once, Lord Thor, that night we met for the first time.” Thor nodded slowly. “I renounced any ties to my abductor long ago — my loyalty is to this planet, Lord Thor, and it shall remain this way regardless of whether or not you,” Darcy looked around the room, “and anyone else here believes me.” 

“Is that what Loki said to you in Stuttgart?” Rogers frowned, still clutching his shield, but he had lowered his arm to his side now. “Is that why you froze up?” 

Darcy pursed her lips, looking down at her hands. “It’s —”

“Personal?” Romanoff cut in dryly, pinning Darcy with her blank stare. “Loki’s made it personal for all of us, Lewis — and with him locked up, you’re the most dangerous unknown in this whole equation.” 

Darcy closed her eyes, knowing somewhere inside her head that she’d regret saying anything, but she spoke up regardless. “I was caught off guard when Loki spoke of me to the Master of the Chitauri — the one who gave me all of…  _this_ ,” she gestured at her face and arm. “Part of Loki’s deal was that in addition to retrieving the Tesseract, he’d also bring me back… willingly or not.” 

“You froze up because you were afraid?” 

“I froze because I was terrified; he doesn’t take betrayal lightly.” Darcy opened her eyes, staring blankly at the space in front of her. “I ran away without his knowledge, stole a valuable ship, and cost him years spent molding me into his perfect tool. Loki bringing me back means being broken and going through it all over again, and I’d sooner kill myself before that happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where the fun begins.


	16. Chapter 16

To her surprise, it was Romanoff who lowered her guns first, laying them down on the table within easy reach, but no longer aimed at Darcy. 

Hill looked at her sharply. “Agent Romanoff…”

“Barton and Coulson vouched for her.” Romanoff pinned Darcy with an intense stare, and Darcy relaxed slightly when the woman nodded at her minutely. “We have better things to do than sit and stare at each other.”

“The Lady Romanoff is correct — Lady Darcy has proven trustworthy thus far. Finding an end to Loki’s schemes is of the greatest importance.” Thor lowered his hammer, raising his eyebrows at Hill until she also lowered her gun. “Loki means to use the Tesseract to open another portal — he has neither the power nor the skill to repair the Bifrost, or travel the shadow paths with such a large company.”

Banner looked a bit calmer, but there was still a tightness in his voice as he said, “So that’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.” 

Thor looked concerned. “Selvig?” 

“Loki is controlling him,” Darcy said softly, “as well as one of our… one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents.” She saw Romanoff glance at her at her sudden change of words, but refused to react. 

“I wanna know why Loki let us take him,” Rogers said, quick to pull the conversation back. “He’s not leading an army from here.”

“He wants  _her_.” Banner nodded in Darcy’s direction, his next words taking on a distinctly bitter tone as he continued, “but he’s locked up in that…  _cage_ , for now any ways. We shouldn’t even be focusing on Loki…. the guy’s brain is a bag full of cats, you could smell crazy on him.”

“A bag full of cats?” Darcy frowned at the unfamiliar expression, but Thor growled. 

“Take care how you speak. Loki may be beyond reason, but he is of Asgard,” Thor warned. “And he is my brother.” 

Romanoff gave the Aesir a dry, deadpan stare. “He killed eighty people in two days.” 

Thor looked around in surprise, the fierce scowl on Hill’s face making him frown deeply. “He’s… adopted?” 

Darcy snorted, earning herself  _that_  look from Rogers again.

Banner didn’t seem to share in her amusement. “Iridium,” he muttered, flipping through the briefing report from Stuttgart again. “What did they need the iridium for?” 

“It’s a stabilizing agent.” Stark waltzed in with Coulson at his side, muttering something about flying and love, before patting Thor on the arm carelessly. “No hard feelings, Point Break, you got a mean swing.” Thor merely stared down at his bicep, looking confused.

“Also, it means the portal can open as wide, ad stay open as long, as Loki wants.” Stark came to a stop at the large monitors overlooking the crew deck. “Uh, raise the mizzenmast, ship the top sails!” 

The crew all stared up at him, silent and bewildered, and Stark suddenly pointed off to his right. “That man is playing Galaga — though we wouldn’t notice, but we did.” He covered his eye, making a show of looking around, and Darcy couldn’t help but grin when she realized who he was imitating. “How does Fury even do this?”

Hill’s expression was cold and unimpressed. “He turns.” 

“Well that sounds exhausting.” Darcy noted with some curiosity the little disk Stark slipped under the first monitor, looking close enough to a screw that no one would’ve known the difference. She raised an eyebrow at Stark, catching his eye, but he merely glanced at her before going right back to the iridium. “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still need is a power source…” 

“Something with a high energy density.” Darcy smiled as she caught onto his train of thought, Stark turning to her with surprise. “Enough to make the Tesseract… wake up, so to speak.” 

Stark stared at her in consideration. “Huh.” 

Darcy shrugged. “Advanced alien technology,” she said simply. 

“Speaking of that,  _you_ ,” Stark jabbed a finger at her in emphasis, “need to come and explain that electroshock gun of yours to me,  _pronto_. Or make me one, and I can figure it out later, but I  _want_  one.”

"According to what I know of Terran customs, it’s considered rude to point at others." She pursed her lips. "And that gun operates —"

“Lewis isn’t saying or doing  _anything_  until S.H.I.E.L.D. clears it first.” Hill glared at Darcy pointedly, then turning her gaze to Stark. “And since when were you an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” 

“Since last night? The packet, Selvig’s notes, the Extraction Theory papers… am I the only one who did the reading?” Darcy raised her hand, and Stark threw his hands up into the air. “Seriously?” 

Rogers looked at Stark with a poorly-shuttered look of annoyance on his face as he asked, “Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” 

Stark opened his mouth to answer, but Banner beat him to it. “He has to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulumb Barrier.” 

“Unless,” Stark continued, his eyes lighting up, “Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” 

“Then he has the ability to obtain excess energy from from intensive particle collisions to power any reactor machine on this planet,” Darcy finished softly, dread filling her as she realized what this could mean. “But at the scale of the Tesseract’s power… any reactor would have the capabilities to open a portal between Terra and any realm or world.” 

Stark nodded. “We earthlings call that Heavy Ion Fusion, but yeah — good to know even you space aliens can speak English.” 

“Is that what just happened?” Rogers muttered to himself, looking extremely lost.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Doctor. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled.” Stark shook Banner’s hand, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. “And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.” 

“Erm…” Banner tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “… Thanks.”

“Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury strode in, still looking fairly angry considering he had Loki in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. “I was hoping you might join him.” 

“Let’s start with that stick of his,” Rogers offered. “It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.” 

“Don’t know about that, but it’s powered by the cube,” Fury said, shaking his head. “And I want to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.” 

“Monkeys?” After Stark’s grand entrance, Thor had looked more and more lost as the conversation went on, and Darcy had to hide her amusement at his increasingly bewildered expression. “I do not understand.”

“I do!” Rogers raised a hand quickly, seemingly surprised at himself before looking proud. “I understood that reference!” 

“It’s a Terran story,” Darcy explained, as Stark rolled his eyes. “A sorceress turns men into hairy winged beasts that while animal, still resemble the human form.” Thor nodded thankfully, granting her a small smile.

“Shall we play, doctor?” Stark glanced at Darcy expectantly. “Robocop?” 

She frowned, vaguely remembering the name from something Clint insisted she needed to watch, but she’d never gotten around to it. “What?”

“Agent Lewis isn’t going anywhere until we get some questions answered,” Fury said coolly, his eye moving from Stark to pin Darcy down with a blank stare. “Stark, Doctor Banner, get to work; the rest of you can stay here.”

“And you’re coming with me, Lewis.” Fury then turned to Darcy, his mouth stretched into satisfied smile. It reminded her of Nebula, after she’d caught one of her targets, and unconsciously she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She didn’t like the eagerness in her voice.

“I’m getting some real answers from you this time, whether you like it or not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates -- I know the frequent postings sort of ended abruptly, but school is starting soon and… well, you know how it is. Updates will hopefully be weekly, but we'll see. 
> 
> Also, thanks for all the comments! I'll be replying soon, once I get some work done...


	17. Chapter 17

Darcy looked around the tiny, cramped cell with some level of caution as Fury watched her intently. He had led her in the detention level of the Helicarrier, accompanied by a fleet of guards, and she had noted that her particular cell was lined with enough electromagnetic disruption devices to blackout an entire city. No doubt because of the bomb in her arm, but she obligingly sat in the cold metal chair, watching as the guards pulled the door shut with a loud click. 

“This is new,” she said blandly. 

“Didn’t want to take any chances this time, Lewis.” Fury’s gaze slid over her exposed bionic arm, then down to where he knew the matching leg was hidden under her bodysuit. “And we take threats very seriously.” 

She pursed her lips. “How long did it take your research department to come up with these… accommodations?” 

“Managed it a year after you started working for us. Even used some of the old tech from that ship of yours as inspiration.” 

“That ship is the pinnacle of galactic engineering and flight technology.” She raised an eyebrow. “Nothing on that ship is, as you say, ‘ _old tech,’_ least of all to your kind.”

“We  _know_  that your tech is far more advanced than ours.” Fury raised his eyebrows at her, trying to hide his displeasure at the admission. “We just have quick turnover rates.”

At his sour expression, her lips curled. “It took you a full year just to figure out the electromagnetic disabling systems, didn’t it?” Her smile widened at his disgruntled look. “Ooh,  _that’s_  why you wanted me in R&D.” 

Fury didn’t reply, instead opting to study her expression, but after a moment he sighed, his shoulders dropping. He paced in the small room for a minute as Darcy watched in silence, eyes tracking his back and forth movement. She frowned when his shoulders began to shake, quickly translating into chuckling, and she let him calm himself down with a shake of his head.

“You know, I’d really thought we’d hit the jackpot with you,” he said through the last of his laughter, leaning back against the wall opposite of her.

“What?”

“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Lewis.” He threw her a sardonic look, but let his head tilt back to rest against the wall. “… You were our  _proof_.” 

“Proof of what?” she asked, snorting. “All you’ve been interested in have been the weapons I brought and what I could build for your benefit. I don’t know what kind of proof—” 

“You were proof of other life out there,” he corrected, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise. “You were proof that there were other civilizations in the world, other societies and cultures and sentient beings capable of intelligent thought. Each time you talked about something new, something we didn’t recognize? We archived every alien reference you’ve ever spoken of.”

“Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.” 

“Believe what you want, but the things you’ve said? Of Xandar, of Knowhere, or those other planets and worlds?” Fury shrugged. “There are over sixty unknown species out there, twenty inhabited planets, entire empires and governments and monarchies we’ve never heard of… and those are only what you’ve mentioned in detail.” 

Fury shook his head. “What’s the point to having weapons when you don’t even know what you’ll be using them against?”

Darcy didn’t answer, her eyes staring blankly at the floor as she bit her lip. She had only ever mentioned Knowhere to Clint, when they were trading stories of their childhoods, and something in her chest broke as her mind came to the only reasonable conclusion. “So Clint… You sent Barton to get information out of me.”

“His long-term mission was to get close and find out anything he could.” Fury didn’t even look apologetic. “Our usual methods didn’t work. Coulson suggested something more…. unorthodox.” 

“Unorthodox?” She laughed hollowly. “What you call unorthodox is what I call basic civility, but I suppose that with your race being so…  _primitive_ , I have to let go of some expectations.” 

“Well, us primitive humans here were just minding out own business when some alien spaceship comes dropping out of the sky, so excuse us for being a overly paranoid,” Fury retorted shortly. “And it looks like we were right to be, too —  _you’re_  the reason this alien army is coming for us.” 

“The Tesseract is why they’re coming, not me — I’m irrelevant in comparison,” she countered. “He’d just as well blow up this planet, and me with it mind you, if it means he gets that cube.” 

“See, Lewis… the thing is, I don’t know if what comes out of your mouth is a truth or a lie anymore.” Fury stepped away from the wall, stopping in front of the chair to loom over her. “You know what’s coming for us, you know who wants the Tesseract… You just never bothered to say anything.” 

“I didn’t even know the Tesseract was on Terra until Coulson told me,” she said lowly. “If I’d known, I would’ve avoided this planet all together.” 

“Or was this the plan all along?” Darcy bristled at Fury’s insinuations. “You coming here to look for the Tesseract, getting close —” 

“That’s total bullshit and you know it,” she hissed. “If  _he_  wanted me to get the Tesseract I wouldn’t have bothered revealing myself to you at all —” 

“And who’s  _he_?” Darcy stooped short at the question, glaring at Fury. 

“You know I can’t say his name.” 

“But you know it,” he pressed. 

“You humans don’t understand the power in titles and names, the magic that one can wield through words.” Darcy shook her head. “I know his name, yes. But will I say it? No — the moment I speak his name, he will know I have revealed him to you, and he will not be so lenient.” 

“So you’re saying you’re some keystone Ring-bearer type that stands between him and us.” Fury didn’t look impressed. 

“If you are saying I’m like that Hobbit character in that fantasy story, no.” Darcy wrinkled her nose at the comparison. “I stand between you and the rest of the universe, Director, because I know doing otherwise would result in your assured destruction. You think that developing weapons, using my ship and the Tesseract to create yourselves a new arsenal, you think that puts you on par with the rest of the galaxies?”

“I have said it before, and I will say it again.  _They will crush you_. You cannot even stand against Asgard, who outlive you and outmatch you at every turn, but who are nothing compared to the cruel beings out there that crave and conquer,” she said darkly. 

“That was then, Lewis.” Fury’s expression was indecipherable. “And this is now. We know about Loki and Thor, about this Chitauri army coming for us. It’s out of your control — you can’t blame us for wanting to know more now.”

“But you don’t need to.” She pinned Fury with a knowing stare. “You were trying to make weapons from my ship for the past few years. I do not doubt you’ve done the same with the Tesseract. You are already prepared, you’ve been preparing since the day I landed here on this planet. So, congratulations.” She smiled grimly. “You’ve gotten what you wanted.” 

“You know that’s not what I want.” Fury narrowed his eye dangerously. 

Darcy sighed, relenting a little. “I know little about the Chitauri, Director, only that they are great in number and that their army consists of foot soldiers, aerial support, and beasts of war.”

“And you couldn’t tell us this earlier?” 

“Would it really have made such a huge difference? You never had a reason to know before,” she said wryly. “Lord Thor’s exile to Terra was something I could not have foreseen — upon realizing that his contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. meant something beyond my control, I willingly gave up information about the Nine Realms.”

“I thought it pertinent, now that Lord Thor pledged to protect your planet.” She shook her head. “I did not dream that Loki would ever find his way to  _his_  side, let alone swear oaths and make deals.”

“Funny you should say that,” Fury snorted. “Since your mission report on Puente Antiguo was woefully lacking.” 

She raised her eyebrows in challenge. “Are you saying that all the information I gave to Coulson never got back to you?” Fury didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Doesn’t count if it’s not on record, Lewis.” 

“And those records can be accessed by anyone with clearance, or really good hacking skills.” She leaned forward, expression serious as she looked up at Fury. “I only reveal information to people I trust, and there are only three Terrans who have that privilege, sir: Barton, despite his mission, Coulson, and you.”

“… So you’re saying you’d answer our questions if it was off record.” 

“I’m saying that I’d be willing to share my past with you as a friend to a friend, not as an agent to the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury looked surprised, blinking at her words. “And as my friend, I’d trust you not to spread that information around.” 

Fury sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. “You’re asking me to deliberately withhold information from people who need access to it, Lewis.” 

“People don’t need to know anything, sir,” she said with a frown. “They want to know, because it helps them sleep better at night, it makes them feel more secure, or whatever else the reason… but some information is beyond just reassuring the World Security Council that they can rest easy knowing there’s other worlds out there.”

Fury snorted but his humor left quickly. “You know as well as I that I don’t call the shots in this game, Lewis — I’m a pawn just like you.”

“Don’t you play chess, sir?” Darcy gave him a dour smile. “Maybe it’s time you turn yourself from a pawn to a queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay :( Real life has been overwhelming, even more than I'd expected, so I haven't had much time for writing...


	18. Chapter 18

“You’re assigning the Captain to babysit me?” Darcy scowled. “Are you serious?” 

“It’s gonna take more than a few pretty words for me to trust you, Lewis,” Fury said, and Rogers didn’t look any happier with the arrangement. “Rogers, on the other hand, will keep you in line.” 

“Keep me in line? What am I, a pet  _ilzngryn_?”

“A what?” 

“An  _ilzn_ —”

“Why don’t we not,” Rogers cut her off, shooting her a wary look. No doubt he was remembering the last time she’d explained a  _krzyltol,_  if the nauseous look on his face was any indication.

“They don’t eat brain matter, if it makes you feel any better,” she drawled, and he glared. “… They eat soft eye tissue and —” 

“ _Jesus_ , that is  _not_  —” 

“So I see the two of you get along already,” Fury interjected, quirking an eyebrow at Rogers’s flustered expression, and said, “You’re to stay in Rogers’s company at all times, Lewis, unless he leaves you in Romanoff’s care.” 

“And Rogers?” He turned to Rogers. “Don’t be afraid to rip her a new one if she deserves it — she can be a little shit when she wants to be.” 

“… I can attest to that.” Rogers’s lips curled up into a stiff smile. Fury nodded, giving Darcy one last glower before turning on his heel back towards the Helicarrier deck. 

Darcy muttered an impolite curse at Fury’s retreating back, and Rogers rolled his eyes as she turned to him accusingly. “I take offense to that.”

“You  _are_  a little shit,” he said, but rather than sounding playful as she thought he would the words came out harsh and cool. “Let’s go. I want to see how Stark and Doctor Banner are doing.”

She frowned, too stunned at the severity of his demeanor to notice him walking towards the labs. She flinched when he snapped back at her, “ _Come_   _on_.” 

“…” Swallowing thickly, she followed after him, trying to tell herself that he had every right to treat her so coldly. The way he had looked at her back at the briefing deck, betrayal and anger lining his features, should’ve been enough of an indicator. They’d talked, bantered, and fought together; they were comrades in the barest sense of the word, but she had broken what little trust had developed.

When she caught up, slipping neatly to his side, she noticed him glance at her from the side of her vision. Darcy schooled her expression, squared her jaw, and kept her eyes directed to the wall behind him, chin high. 

She fell back into the best coping method she knew, the only lesson Nebula had ever truly taught her: hide and close yourself within stone.

Rogers opened his mouth to say something, but one look at her blank expression and he didn’t bother. 

They walked in stilted silence towards the lab looking over the Helicarrier deck, the smooth, soft hiss of the automatic door sliding open to greet them. Rogers stepped aside to let her enter first — most likely an ingrained formality, chivalry was an unheard of concept in her line of work — and he followed after her just as Stark casually prodded Banner with a pointy instrument. 

“Ow!” The shorter man jumped as he turned to stare at Stark incredulously. 

“Nothing? Really?” Stark’s intent eyes stared at him in scientific curiosity, but Rogers was quick to stride forward. 

“Hey! Are you nuts?” Stark rolled his eyes, glancing at Rogers dismissively before his gaze settled back on Banner.

“You really have got a lid of it, haven’t you?” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “What’s your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed—”

Darcy’s lips quirked up into a smile at Stark’s fast-paced speech, but Rogers merely frowned. “Is everything a joke to you?” 

“Funny things are.” Stark shrugged, and then he prodded Darcy in her metal arm. She flinched at the electric shock that coursed through her nerves, too weak to set anything off or cause damage, but strong enough to cause the wiring embedded in her skin to spark under the fluorescent lights. “You too, huh?” 

Rogers pulled her back behind him, causing Darcy to raise an eyebrow at the oddly protective gesture. “Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn’t funny,” Rogers snarled, deflating as Banner sighed. “No offense, doctor… Lewis.”

“Right,” she muttered, sliding her arm out of his grip and moving away. Stark raised an eyebrow, watching her interestedly. 

“No, it’s alright,” Banner said, smiling wryly. “I wouldn’t have come aboard if I couldn’t handle pointy things.” 

“You’re tiptoeing, big man.” Stark clapped his free hand on Banner’s shoulder, poking Darcy again with the electric prod. This time she glared, the metal in her face offset by her annoyed expression. “See? Take a couple pages from Leela’s book. You need to strut.” 

“… Leela?” 

“Turanga Leela? Sexy alien-slash-mutant human, flies around in a space ship, purple hair… no?” At Darcy’s clueless look, Stark threw his hands in the air. “For God’s sake,  _Futurama_! Did they keep you under a rock?!”

Darcy could practically hear Rogers grinding his teeth. “You need to focus on the problem here, Mr. Stark.”

“You think I’m not? Why did Fury call us and why now?” Stark challenged. “Why not before? What isn’t he telling us? I can’t do the equation unless I have all the variables.” 

“You think Fury’s hiding something.” There was a note of doubt wavering under Rogers’s tone, and Stark snorted. 

“He’s a spy. Captain, he’s  _the_  spy. His secrets have secrets — like for example, why didn’t he just interrogate Miss Ripley over there for all of us to hear?” Rogers cast his eyes towards her, features pinched and tight as Stark continued, “It’s bugging him too, isn’t it?” 

All eyes swiveled to focus on Banner, who shook his head. “Uh… I just wanna finish my work here and —” 

“Doctor?” 

Banner stared at Rogers for a moment, then Darcy, before sighing. “A warm light for all mankind… Loki’s jab at Fury about the cube.” 

Rogers nodded shortly. “I heard it.”

“Well, I think that was meant for you.” Banner nodded at Stark, and wordlessly Stark held out a container of what Darcy recognized as blueberries. “Even if Barton didn’t post that all over the news…” 

“Stark Tower? That big, ugly —” Stark looked put out, “— building in New York?” 

“It’s powered by arc-reactor technology, a self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for what… a year?” 

Stark shrugged, uncharacteristically modest. “That’s just the prototype. I’m kind of the only name in clean energy right now.” 

“So why didn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. bring him in on the Tesseract project?” Banner asked, raising an eyebrow at Rogers’s contemplative expression. “I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?”

“They’re not.” All three men turned to look at her, in varying expressions of disbelief. Darcy cleared her throat delicately, knowing that her next words would make most of the World Security Council’s plans fall apart, knowing that she’d probably be screwing Fury and Coulson over at the same time, but she wasn’t feeling very charitable at the moment. 

“To have the Tesseract, to have power beyond fathoming, unlimited power that worlds beyond yours have achieved,” she repeated, noticing the recognition that bled through their shoulders. “It was a barb aimed towards S.H.I.E.L.D., but in regards to me.”

Muttering the words over and over to himself, Stark’s eyes lit up. “Not just you… Puente Antiguo, that Destroyer thingy… Thor and those Asgardians!” 

“Aliens in general, as you call us.” She shrugged. “My arrival triggered the initial interest, but the events in New Mexico launched S.H.I.E.L.D into full-blown panic mode.”

“They’re afraid,” Banner said quietly, pulling off his glasses slowly. “They realized there’s other life out there, and they’re afraid that Earth doesn’t match up.” 

“It doesn’t even come  _close_ ,” Darcy said, leaning onto the large desk in the middle of the lab. “The ship I used to get here? At the time, it had the best weapons systems and most technological advancements of all other ships in the outer galaxies. They confiscated it for ‘ _research_ ’ right after I arrived, but it took them a full year to reverse-engineer the simplest of the ship’s defense systems. And I don’t think they’ve had much luck since then; Fury’s been trying to get me to work in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s R&D department for the past four years.”

“… They wanted you to build weapons.” Stark laughed, the smile on his face odd and false. “Stark Industries nixed weapon development back in 2008 before I came out as Ironman. You said Fury’s been asking you for four years?” 

“More or less.” 

He shook his head. “They stopped pressing me about getting back in dad’s old business after I came out as Ironman. I thought it was because of the suit, but…”  

“So you’re saying S.H.I.E.L.D.’s building weapons.” Rogers had been quiet up until now, but his face was set into a blank mask of professionalism. 

“I’m saying S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been  _trying_  to build weapons,” Darcy corrected. “And while I know they haven’t managed to figure out the ones from my ship…” 

“But with the Tesseract?” Rogers frowned. “You’re making a serious accusation here, Lewis.” 

“But it makes sense.” Banner rubbed his eyes, the deep wrinkles in his forehead making his entire face look worn and pale. “It… it makes  _a lot_  of sense, actually. More than the story Fury’s been feeding us.”

Stark traded glances with Darcy, and she saw him nod at her. “I can look into it once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secure files.” 

Rogers looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, did you just say…?” 

“JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge.” Stark pulled a handheld device from his back pocket, the screen scrolling through endless lines of numbers and letters. “In a few hours we’ll know every dirty secret S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever tried to hide, maybe even a few you’d like to see. Blueberry?” 

Rogers ignored the proffered snack, his blue eyes glinting in the harsh white lighting. “Yet you’re confused about why they didn’t want you around.” 

“An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome.”

“I think Loki’s trying to wind us up.” Rogers seemed affronted at Stark’s answering snort. “This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don’t stay focused, he’ll succeed. We have orders; we should follow them.” 

“See, following isn’t really my style.” Stark smiled insincerely, and Rogers scoffed. 

“And you’re all about style, aren’t you?” 

“Of all the people in this room, which one is A: wearing a spangly outfit, and B: has neither the knowledge nor capability to contribute to anything of use?” Rogers bristled at the insult.

“Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?” Banner interjected, and Darcy watched as uncertainty played across Rogers’s face, eyes warring between loyalty and doubt. 

“… Just find the cube,” he growled, shooting Stark one last look of contempt before stalking to the door. 

“… Good luck with the Tesseract,” Darcy said, giving the two remaining men a small smile, before slipping out of the lab, feet padding after Rogers’s retreating back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this time!


	19. Chapter 19

Darcy followed him through the winding halls of the underbelly of the Helicarrier, making sure to keep a careful distance from Rogers. His tensed shoulders said more than words could, and she watched him warily as they neared the storage hangars in the hull.

When she rounded the corner after Rogers, she found herself pushed up against the wall, hands pinned up above her head. She struggled, trying to use her bionic arm to break free, but Rogers simply yanked her wrists together and used both hands to hold her up, fingers tight against skin and metal.

_“What do you think you're—?!”_

_“Play along,”_ he muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes swerving upwards towards the camera above their heads, before raising his voice to a deep growl, loud enough to echo through the metal corridors.

“I don’t care if Fury says you’re loyal or not,” he said lowly, a glacial expression on his face as he stared down at her. “From where I’m standing, you’re the only one in this place with any real motive; and if I get the slightest hint that you—”

“That I’m a traitor? That I’m working for Loki?” Darcy retorted, pulled out of her momentary shock to fix a derisive look on her face, staring up at him until Rogers nodded in understanding. “Did you _not_ hear what I said—”

“Thor is being blinded by emotion; it’s easy to see that he cares for Loki despite his actions, and there’s some sort of sentiment between you two,” Rogers rebutted, disdain dripping from his words. “And you just gave Stark and Banner a dangling carrot back there — don’t try to tell me otherwise.” 

She glared. “Romanoff—”

“—trusts Coulson and Fury, both of whom seem to think you’re loyal; under what evidence I don’t know.” His lip curled up into a sneer. “But from the moment we’ve met you’ve been undermining S.H.I.E.L.D.’s authority – in the jet, on the deck, in the lab… You have an endgame outside of the rest of us, and let me make myself clear: if you become a threat? _I will take you out_.” 

“Such a good little soldier, doing what he’s told,” Darcy cooed mockingly, before leaning up to whisper into his ear.

“Down the hall to your left, second right, door at the end of the hall.” She ignored his sharp inhale as she breathed the words against his skin. “Electric system, force the lock and you’re in.”

“Got it,” Rogers muttered as she pulled back, fixing a smug smirk on her face as Rogers schooled his expression into a deep scowl, making a show of releasing her wrists and watching as his hands flexed in and out of fists. Only the redness in the tips of his ears betrayed him as he spun on his heels and stalked away.

Darcy let her arms drop limply to her sides, flexing her flesh hand as the redness around her flesh wrist remained, a clear indicator of the bruise that would develop later. Smiling to herself a little, she followed quickly as Rogers disappeared around the corner, maneuvering around the security cameras before sidling up beside the man.

“Sorry,” he said shortly, eyes glancing down to the red skin of her wrist. “I should’ve warned you…”

“It’s fine,” she murmured, waving it off. “Just… never really pegged you for an actor, Captain.” When he didn’t reply, she glanced up to see his features tense as he looked away. She followed his gaze, her eyes sliding from his face to the corridor beside them and noting the painted words on the heavy door at the end of the hall.

_SECURE STORAGE 10-C_   
_AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY_   
_LEVEL 9 & UP_

They exchanged glances, Rogers striding briskly towards the door as Darcy stuck close, slinking close behind in his shadow. “Seventy years on ice and now everyone thinks I’m some white-washed, all-American paragon of duty and virtue,” he snorted humorlessly. “No one remembers the kid from Brooklyn who got into fights he couldn’t win, or the USO tour-boy who ignored protocol to save his best friend.”

“So I’ve heard.” Darcy recalled the files she read before, the ones that had copies of his falsified enlistment forms, the police reports of petty theft and public fighting, and a number of Army reports from ranked officers that revolved around insubordination and disobedience during missions and operations.

She hummed, watching him in interest as he studied the electric lock, and at her stare of consideration Rogers looked up suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing.” Darcy shook her head as the edges of her lips curved up into a more genuine, if small, grin, ignoring Rogers’s wary glance back at her.

After probing the lock with a few soft touches, Rogers simply dug his fingers into the seam between the wall and the door slab, pulling it open slowly as the locking mechanism broke under the sheer force of his strength. When it opened up far enough, Darcy raised an eyebrow at the deep-set imprints of Rogers’s hands in the iron of the door. 

“Coming, Lewis?” 

Darcy nodded and slipped through the opening after him, watching as he leapt up onto the second level catwalk above her.

“… Schmidt… HYDRA… gotta to be around here somewhere,” she heard him mutter as he briskly strode down the metal aisles, eyes scanning over the marked black storage crates. Just before he disappeared behind the first row of shelves, she called up to him.

“Hey, Rogers.” He looked back down to her, eyes questioning. “Call me Darcy.”

He stared down at her in surprise, and she met his slightly dumbfounded expression archly as he just stood there looking at her. “… What?”

“… Nothing.” He didn’t blush or break his gaze, choosing instead to narrow his eyes as something flashed across his face – curious and inquisitive, as opposed to his earlier contempt. “Are you just going to hang around here, or… if you want to…?”

“Just shout if you need me,” she said, looking around until she spotted an irregularly shaped outline, half-hidden behind a row of crates and covered in a dark tarp. Her features brightened as she recognized the familiar silhouette. “There’s something else I have to check on…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Life got in the way for a while, and when I tried coming back to this when I had some time writer's block just ate up the rest of the time. I rewrote this chapter a couple dozen times, until this final version was something I could tolerate. Hopefully this gets me back into the writing mood, especially with the Thanksgiving holiday weekend here! 
> 
> Also, thanks for all the kudos and comments and bookmarks -- they helped kick my butt into gear!


	20. Chapter 20

It was more battered than she remembered: the burn marks on steel-plated shell from her descent through the atmosphere, the front control panel covered in dust from neglect, and the glass smudged with grease and oil and dirt. It had clearly been taken apart and put back together, but Darcy looked around the ship’s interior with a slight smile of nostalgia. Her lips widened into a grin when she heard the sound of Amber’s operational systems rebooting, clearly recognizing the electromagnetic signature emitting from the cybertronics in her leg.

“Oh Nebula, if you could see your ship now,” she mused, taking in the gold-titanium seal caps scratched at the edges – probably pried off with a crowbar, as she didn’t think humans had the chemical means to engineer the solvent that dissolved _ozhatn_ sealants. “Taken apart by Terrans…”

She sighed, reaching up to pluck the belt of electroshock plasma chargers draped across the pilot’s seat, shaking off the dust. “ _‘You long for a home that no longer exists,’_ ” she whispered, recalling the harsh words as she buckled the charger rounds across her chest. “Maybe you were right, sister.” Rogers’s voice echoed faintly behind her, calling her name, and she let herself soak in the familiar surroundings one last time before slipping out of the ship.

Wandering through the aisles, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair and looked up to see Rogers standing up on one of the catwalks, staring into an open crate with a clenched jaw. She swung up to his side, the walkway creaking beneath her when she landed, but her attention was on the cracking plastic beneath Rogers’s fingers, the crate buckling under his clenched fists.

Darcy peered over the edge of the box and hissed at the sight of numerous rifles sitting innocuously in a bed of hay, flinching back once she realized the blue gem in each gun’s heart was glowing faintly.

She stole a glance at him. “… Are these HYDRA weapons?”

Rogers shook his head. “I’ve never seen ones like this.” He held the rifle up to the fluorescent lights, and Darcy frowned at how the weapon was well-oiled and cared for before she caught sight of the tiny embossed S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the butt of the rifle. She reached out, brushing over it with her fingers, and Rogers growled lowly when he saw it.

“I recognize the design.” Darcy drew her hand away, mouth set into a grim line. “They took the specs from the short-barreled laser shotguns I had on my ship; modified them to charge bullets with Tesseract energy instead of laser plasma.”

“Right.” She looked up to see Rogers staring down at the rifle blankly, and he looked up to meet her gaze with a brittle chuckle. “Was it too much to ask for a future of flying cars?”

“The future’s not so different after all, is it?” She smiled back weakly, but he looked away, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he exhaled slowly.

“Guess not,” he said quietly. “… looks like you were right. Again.” Darcy shrugged a little, opting to stay silent as Rogers turned back to the entrance, their walk heading up to the lab quiet. She felt a little sorry for him, as they walked – she could see the defeated slump in his posture in her peripheral vision, slight as it was – but it quickly disappeared once they neared the lab, with Fury’s voice carrying through the corridors.

“You’re supposed to be locating the Tesseract.” Through the open lab doors, she raised an eyebrow at Stark and Banner, whose casual attitude were at odds with the tense lines of Fury’s posture and the impatience in his voice.

“We are.” Banner smiled somewhat mockingly, gesturing towards the machines calibrating behind Fury. “Model’s locked and we’re sweeping for the signature right now… when we get a hit, we’ll have the location within a half mile.” Banner’s eyes darted over to meet Darcy’s through the transparent screens, and Stark’s gaze followed imperceptibly before refocusing on the glass display.

“And you’ll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss,” Stark said flippantly, and continued casually as he asked, “So when exactly were you going to tell us about Phase Two?”

Rogers stalked past her as Fury’s glare intensified. “What the hell do you think you’re – ”

“Phase Two is using the cube to make weapons…” Rogers laughed lowly, dropping the shotgun on the lab table with a loud thunk. Fury’s expression would’ve been comical had it not been for the livid look on Rogers’s face. “Joke’s on me, isn’t it Director?”

Darcy’s gaze was drawn to the way Fury’s hand drifted directly to the gun holster on his thigh, but her pointed hiss made him raise his hands. Fury’s mouth tightened as he looked away from Rogers’s accusing glare and Stark’s uncharacteristic seriousness, only to catch Banner’s eyes flashing a toxic green.

“Captain, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract; this does not mean that –”

“You really wanna tell me these are HYDRA weapons?” Rogers tossed the rifle to Stark, who caught and cocked the gun in a single motion. Rogers laughed humorlessly. “Brand new, no firing residue, a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the rifle butt, a crate full of ‘em down in cargo – seems to me like the facts all add up real easy.”

Fury gritted his teeth. “Standard appropriation procedures of foreign weaponry require – ”

“I’m sorry Nick.” Stark flipped the screen around, which was scrolling through modeled specs of weaponry of all shapes and sizes – many of which Darcy recognized as vague approximations of the guns either stowed on her ship or built into the defense systems. “What were you lying?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw Romanoff stalking into the lab, Thor on the redhead’s heels, and she bit her lip when Banner whirled around to face them, his features hard as he stared at Romanoff accusingly.

“You gonna try telling me you didn’t know about this?”

Darcy’s respect for the woman shot up when she stared down Banner’s furious glare stoically, ignoring the green tinge coloring Banner’s neck. “You might wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, Dr. Banner.” 

“I was in _fucking_ _Calcutta_.” Banner laughed derisively. “I was pretty well removed until you showed up with an attack squadron in tow.”

“Loki’s manipulating you – ”

“Oh, that’s _rich_.” Banner pulled off his wire frame glasses, clutching them in his fist as he took a step closer. “And what’ve you been doing? ‘ _Just you and me – ’ ”_

“You didn’t come here because I bat my eyelashes at you.” The bravado was admirable, but Darcy saw the slight tremor of the woman’s shoulder as Banner invaded her space – Romanoff was cracking, and Banner sneered unkindly.

“Getting a little twitchy there, _Natasha_?” Banner noticed the tense line of the woman’s shoulders, snorting as he stepped back. “What are you going to do, use the cube to keep me down, keep the big guy from coming out to _play_ – ”

“You seek to make the Tesseract a weapon?” Thor, quietly observing up until now, interrupted Banner, as Romanoff quickly backpedalled to put some space between her and the doctor. Fury turned his annoyed expression towards Thor, who folded his arms threateningly in reply. “You court death and chaos from creatures and conquerors far crueler than Loki and his allies, and for what? The sake of power?”

Darcy shrugged. “Power and influence, authority and control – to shape the worlds into a reality of their choosing, in their likeness.” All eyes turned to her, while her own gaze was fixed upon the glowing gem in Loki’s scepter, her lip curled up in a grimace. “To have the means to eliminate those who can’t be controlled with empty lies and pretty words – after all, weapons speak louder than words.”

Thor frowned at her. “You knew of this?”

“Who do you think was the one that _warned_ them, only to be ignored – over and over, year after year…” Darcy scoffed, shaking her head. “And what did you say, Director? ‘ _Just in case_ , _Lewis_.’ _‘That’s why we need you in R &D, Lewis.’ ‘For the greater good_, _for – ’ ”_

“And remind me again what happened last year, Lewis?” Fury glowered at her, “An Asgardian grudge match leveled a small town, and you still think we don’t need something to even out the odds?”

“You think the Tesseract is evening out the odds?” She laughed. “You might as well have sent an invitation to every other being in the universe, that Terra is ready to do battle against other worlds, when you do not even register as the smallest _tchavln_ in a herd of _qea’ar_.”

The unfamiliar expression made Rogers roll his eyes and Fury scowl, but Thor nodded solemnly in agreement. “You signal to all the realms that Midgard is ready for a higher form of war,” Thor rumbled, “when in reality you cannot fathom how far away you still stand.”

Rogers frowned. “A higher form?”

“Your giant weapon death machine forced our hand,” Fury shot back, “we had to come up with _something_.”

Stark snorted. “Nuclear deterrent? Right, ‘cause that always calms everything right down.”

Fury rounded on the shorter man, “Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?”

“Yeah, and funny how S.H.I.E.L.D. pops into my life the moment I stop Stark Industries’ weapons development department, _begging_ me to reconsider – ”

Steve stepped between the two in warning, pushing Fury back as he threw a derisive look at Stark over his shoulder. “I’m sure that if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep – ”

Tony scowled. “I’d rather shoot myself than dance to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fiddle, thanks, but at least I’d be _useful_ , unlike a certain ice pop I could name – ”

Rogers rounded on Stark with an irate expression, red staining the apples of his cheeks in anger. “I swear to God, Stark, one more crack and – ”

“I thought humans were more evolved than this.” Thor looked on the argument in disdain. “Perhaps Lady Darcy and Lady Jane were one of few exceptions.”

Fury looked offended. “Excuse me, did we come to _your_ planet and blow stuff up?”

“Did you always give your champions such mistrust?” Thor did not look impressed, looking on with a look of exasperation.

Darcy could only watch miserably as the whole room descended into chaos, the blue gem glowing brighter and brighter in the background as the bickering began to descend into full out arguments, everyone’s anger directed back and forth between people.

“Are you all really that naïve? S.H.I.E.L.D. _monitors_ potential threats!” Darcy snorted, earning herself a glare from Romanoff, but Banner’s incredulous laugh interrupted her.

“You’re telling me Captain America is on the potential threats watch list?”

“We all are – ”

“Captain America is threatening me!” Stark’s voice rose above the cacophony of voices, “I feel threatened!”

Darcy looked over. Rogers and Stark were about _this_ close to getting into a literal fistfight, getting more and more into each other’s faces, and so she pushed herself between them, flesh arm physically holding Stark back as she held the other up to Rogers, blocking him off.

“ _Move_.” Rogers glared down at her.

Stark sniggered in her ear. “Hey, it’s not Shepard’s fault you’re too blind to see what’s – ”

Darcy didn’t expect Rogers to shove her aside, nearly tackling Stark before she yanked him out of the way just in time. “All of you need to calm down, you’re just giving Loki what he wants!”

“And I guess you’d know a little about what Loki wants, huh?” She whirled around, stunned when Rogers – of all people – gave her a mean smirk. “I should’ve known, this is all part of your – ”

“I thought we already covered this, but I’ll say it again in case you’re hard of hearing, Rogers: I’m _not_ a traitor!” An irrational sort of anger began coursing through her chest at his _utter_ obstinacy. “You wanna push the blame on someone – yeah, why not me, right? I’m the one who started all this, because for some moronic reason I thought coming back to Terra was a good idea, I thought it meant I was coming home, but who am I kidding? I’m not home, I’m not even _human_ – just a mismatch of pieces playing the part, serving until I’m no longer useful – so yes, blame the one who’s played lapdog to S.H.I.E.L.D. all these years, the one who they tried to kill, the one who’s been telling the truth this whole time, because she’s obviously the one who wants to see the world burn for the asinine _ignorance_ that is human nature!”

Her voice echoed through the lab, and although she felt eyes on her Darcy kept her gaze locked on Rogers’s speechless face, her ears picking up the low whine of the machinery under her skin responding the adrenaline coursing through her body. Her hands flexed, the metal hand setting off sparks as the digits grinded together, and the threads of wiring in her flesh flickered brightly from the building energy.

“Lewis.” Fury’s hand was hovering over his gun holster. “Control yourself.”

Darcy stepped back, smiling bitterly. “So says the master to the dog.”

Thor’s voice was heavy with contempt as he stared at Fury. “You speak of control, and yet you court chaos.”

“But that’s his M.O., isn’t it? I mean, what are we… a team? No, no, no, we’re a chemical mixture that _makes_ chaos.” Banner chuckled humorlessly. “We’re weapons – each and every one of us, and he’s trying to work all of us under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s thumb, but under the guise of a team? No… we’re not a team, we’re a time bomb, just waiting to explode, taking everyone and everything with us, but not before we kill each other first.”

There was a beat of silence, before Fury took a careful step back, watching her and Banner warily. “Both of you need to step away.”

Stark clapped Rogers on the shoulder, completely missing the anger on the larger man’s expression. “Oh come on, Fury, why shouldn’t they let off a little steam – ”

“You know damn well why!” Rogers pushed Stark away, making him stumble. “Back off!”

Darcy twitched, stopping herself from moving to break up the fight, but gave up as the pair got in each others’ faces, ignoring the shower of sparks raining from her hand. “Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me.” Stark’s lip curled into a sneer.

Rogers matched his expression. “Big man in a suit of armor… take that off, what are you?”

The cheeky answer held a note of challenge. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

Darcy shoved a shoulder between them, bracing herself against their combined weights as she tried to force some space between them. “Both of you, stop it.”

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you.” Rogers continued as if she wasn’t there. “Yeah, I’ve seen the footage – the only thing you really fight for is yourself. You' re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

From her position, Darcy could see the muscles in Stark’s jaw twitch as he tried to maintain his stoic expression. “I think I’d just cut the wire.”

“Always a way out.” Rogers smiled scornfully. “You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”

“A hero? Like you?” Stark’s eyes flashed in hurt, but the emotion was gone as it flickered into something muted and cruel. “You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a _bottle_.”

Rogers’s face went slack, before it curled into something venomous. “Put on the suit, Stark.” Rogers shouldered her out of the way, goading Stark with that smile. “Let’s go a few rounds.”

“You people are so _petty_.” The contempt was palpable in Thor’s words. “And tiny.”

Stark’s face was white with quiet fury as he turned away from Rogers, and Banner muttered, “Yeah, this is a team all right – ”

Fury shot him a look. “Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his – ”

“My what?” Banner raised an eyebrow. “You rented out my room." 

“The cell was just in case – ”

“In case you needed to kill me, but you can’t! I know, ‘cause I’ve tried!” Banner’s voice rose, and his words made everyone fall silent. “… I got low. I didn’t see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth, and the other guy spit it out. So I tried to move on, focus on helping other people, I was _good_ – until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk!”

“And for what? To make sure your monster wasn’t siding with Loki, was still the good little doctor? To lock him up in a cage, make sure he can’t run off to the dark side?” Darcy couldn’t say anything, watching Banner’s tortured expression shift into something else.

“You wanna know my secret, Agent?” He turned back to Romanoff, who couldn’t quite hide her flinch as his eyes flashed green and his hand went up to snatch the scepter form the lab table. “You wanna know how I stay calm?” Darcy stiffened, slowly moving her hand towards the electric net grenade in her belt, as Fury and Romanoff both went to their guns, and Rogers widened his stance and bracing himself.

“… Doctor Banner.” Rogers held his hands up unthreateningly, speaking in the calmest voice he could manage. “Put down the scepter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it's been a while. I really have no excuses, since I've obviously been writing other things, but I kind of forgot about this as my muse for my other works took over. But I'm trying to get back into the rhythm of things, and now that I'm working I have a better idea of my schedule and time for writing! 
> 
> Still, it's good to come back to this, especially since the AoU trailers coming out have called back my muse for this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> I was on tumblr and I stumbled over a little prompt there and I just went at it. ~~May continue it, but this is a stand alone for now.~~ No longer a stand alone! More of a sort-of serial that show snapshots of life through the MCU as it’s been built, only with a twist. ~~No prior planning for this one, it’s being churned out on a day-by-day basis so far.~~ We’ll see what happens…
> 
> **Title from the song _Broken Crown_ by Mumford and Sons.


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